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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046556">Here I am, Baby. (signed, sealed, delivered.)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedVixen/pseuds/TwistedVixen'>TwistedVixen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angry Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Falling In Love, Hope is a Doggo, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kara Danvers owns a bookstore, Lena owns a bigger bookstore, Secret Penpal AU, a bit angsty, extreme fluff at the end, promise!, you've got mail - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedVixen/pseuds/TwistedVixen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two business rivals, who despise each other in real life, unwittingly fall in love online.</p><p>Ever seen You've Got Mail with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan? Exactly that but GAY and with an unnecessary sex scene.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>291</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kara Danvers owns a small comic and bookstore in National City. Her business may be in trouble when the Luthors open a Super Bookstore just two blocks away.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kara Danvers is asleep. </p><p>She’s 30 and as pretty as a fresh spring day with golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her apartment is a cozy studio, with her queen-sized bed curtained off with sheer pink netting. There is a small desk tucked in a corner by the couch, where her computer awaits her patiently. Bookshelves line every inch of wallspace, overflowing with piles upon piles of novels, comics and superhero action figures. A hobby that she picked up from her late father.</p><p>As Kara wakes up, her boyfriend, James Olson, walks into the bed area wearing a button down work shirt and jeans. He’s carrying the National City Tribune Newspaper. </p><p>“Good morning.” Kara yawns and stretches over the bed with a smile.</p><p>“Listen to this, the entire workforce of Obsidian North had to get Candy Crush banned from their phones and computers because they hadn’t done any work in six weeks!”</p><p>“Aren’t you late?”</p><p>“You know what this is? You know what we are seeing here? It’s the end of the Western World as we know it.”</p><p>“That is so sad.”</p><p>“You think those computers and smartphones are your friends but they’re not! I’m late!”</p><p>“I’ll see you tonight.”</p><p>“Sushi?”</p><p>“Great.” James plants a kiss on her lips. “Bye.”</p><p>He goes out the door. It closes. Kara crawls out of bed and tiptoes over to the window. She peeks through the blinds, watching him descend down the front steps and into the bustle of the city. </p><p>He’s gone. Good. </p><p>Kara sits down at her computer and powers it up, logs into her secret email account. Her username,<em> SuperGirl </em>, was inspired by her middle school friends over her heroism and love of comics. She would rescue any animal or person that needed rescuing from a twelve year old. Cats from trees, loose dogs running in traffic, grannies who had trouble crossing the street, you name it. Still to this day, Kara will stop and help for anything. That’s the type of person she is.</p><p>Now, a big smile takes over her face when she sees a single notification among many. With a few clicks, Kara deletes several pieces of junk mail then opens the message with a shaky inhale.</p><p>
  <b> <em>From: NC152</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Subject: Hope</em> </b>
</p><p>Kara begins to read softly out loud to herself.  </p><p>“Hope is my dog. She loves the streets of National City as much as I do. Although she likes to eat bits of pizza and bagel off the sidewalk, I resort to my ungodly addiction to kale smoothies- <em> Kale?! </em>” </p><p>Her nose scrunches up at the thought but she laughs and shakes her head, then continues to read with a full heart.</p><p>
  <em> Hope is so dazzling that she was once offered to try out for the Canine Crunchies commercial line. But she chose to stay with me instead and spend 18 hours a day on a large red pillow the size of an inner tube. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don’t you love National City in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would buy you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms. </em>
</p><p>***</p><p><em> “ </em>Thank you!” Lena smiles at the cashier and leaves a generous tip. With long dark hair, green eyes and a killer jawline, Lena has always been told that she’s beautiful enough to be a model. But even if she could earn $350 million a year wearing gaudy designer clothes on a runway, Lena would still pick the suit in boardrooms. As a woman in the cutthroat business world, it’s the hard things that make it worthwhile.</p><p>In the mornings, she dresses casually on her walks, stopping here and there to let her golden retriever sniff light poles and mailboxes. Every day, she ends up groaning and pulling the pup away from gobbling up scraps of bread and tomato cheese along the way back home.</p><p>Inside Lena’s loft is bright and clean and open. The golden retriever goes straight to her owner’s personal office, settling down on a big red pillow with the name ‘Hope’ embroidered in golden letters. Lena goes into the kitchen and sits down with her half-drunken kale smoothie and a book.</p><p>Lena’s girlfriend, Andrea Rojas, dressed from head to toe in Armani, comes into the kitchen and turns on the espresso machine that Lena paid way too much for. </p><p>“I’m late!” Andrea shouts over the grinder’s noise, holding up a copy of the newspaper. “The Daily Planet fired Morgan Edge. Good riddance! Which makes one less person I’m not speaking to. Clark got a great review. He’ll be insufferable. Tonight, PEN dinner.”</p><p>“Am I going?” Lena asks with her eyes still glued to her book.</p><p>“You promised.”</p><p>“Can’t I just give them money? What’s the cause? Free the Albanian writers? I’m for that.”</p><p>Andrea drains a cup of espresso and gives Lena a look. “Alright, fine. I’ll go.” At that, Andrea grins and kisses Lena’s cheek. “You’re late.”</p><p>“I know, I know!” Andrea tears out of the kitchen and the door slams behind her, finally. Lena shoots up from the table and pauses, listening to the elevator doors open and close on the landing outside. That’s her cue.</p><p>Lena rushes to the office with a grin, sits down at the computer and boots it up. Hope pops her front paws on the desk, panting and slobbering on her owner's neck as she gets head scratches. </p><p>“Good Morning, Miss Luthor.” The computerized assistant's voice is sultry from the speaker. “You’ve got mail.”</p><p>
  <b> <em>SuperGirl</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Subject: Dear Friend</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> I’d like to start my notes to you as if we’re already in deep conversation. I pretend that we are the oldest and dearest friends as opposed to what we actually are, people who don’t know each other's names and met in a chatroom where we both claim to never have been before. What will NC152 say, I wonder. I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it boots up. I open my email and my breath catches in my chest until I see the notification. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of National City, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Kara walks down the streets of downtown, taking in the charm of the city that she’s lived in all her life. The smile on her face doesn’t leave for a moment during her commute. She doesn’t even care about the crazy long line at the coffee shop. </p><p>In front of her is a woman with a sleek ponytail, ordering enough coffee for a small army, looking frazzled. Kara orders a hot mocha with extra whipped cream. She opens the door for the frazzled woman, who didn’t say to note the good gesture. Outside Kara watches her approach another woman with dark hair, shades and a sleek suit with a cell phone glued to her ear.</p><p>“Hold on.” The suited woman sighs and lifts a tray of coffee from her colleague’s hand. “We’re gonna be late!”</p><p>“Would have been on time if you didn’t decide to get coffee for the entire team.”</p><p>“It builds morale.” </p><p>Both of the women are fumbling and Kara decides to open the cab door for them too. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. The woman in the suit looks at Kara with a smile under those dark shades. She opens her mouth to say something, but her attention snaps back to her phone call.</p><p>“Calm down! I’m bringing you coffee!” In the end, she gives Kara a grateful wave from the car. “Yes, tall extra foam mochachino. Of course! Soy, extra hot. I’ll be there in twenty.”</p><p>Kara continues on with pride in her good deed for the morning. Smells of bagels, pizza, coffee and gasoline from the traffic jams floated all around her. The air is crisp and refreshingly sweet with the hint of changing leaves. The subway is crowded as usual, but she doesn’t care. It’s a beautiful fall day.</p><p>She waves at the bike messengers and landscapers and the clerks sitting in the newsstands. When she makes it to work her smile stays with her golden hair fluttering in the breeze. Her key twists in a lock and the gates roll up under the sign that reads: </p><p>‘The Shop Around the Corner’.</p><p>The Shop Around the Corner is a small children's bookstore that, thanks to Kara, now sells comic books as well. Inside is full of rustic charm with tan, plastered walls, exposed wooden beams and handmade decorations. She particularly enjoys a piece of Wonder Woman fanart a regular gifted to her on her 30th birthday. It sits just next to her mother’s picture behind the counter. </p><p>Kara fills giant glass jars of candy just minutes before opening. A tall, red haired woman with black clothes rolls in through the door, ringing the shop bell.</p><p>“Good Morning, Alex,” Kara greets her with a chirpy voice, now arranging some flowers in the window display. Alex, her adoptive sister, harbored separate personalities with her. Where Kara loved sweet things, flowers and romances, Alex is all about rock metal, nose-piercings and old horror movies. </p><p>“Morning.”</p><p>“Beautiful day, don’t you think?” Kara sighs sweetly, gazing out the window where two cab drivers yell obscenities at each other.</p><p>“I guess.” </p><p>“Don’t you just love National City in the fall?”</p><p>Alex arches a brow, looking puzzled. She nearly loses it when Kara inhales the scent of pencils then scotch tape. Saying, “Mm, you can’t beat that.”</p><p>“Scotch tape?!” Alex swipes it from her hand. “What is going on with you?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Kara answers, rounding the counter to open the till. Alex gasps.</p><p>“You’re in love!” she accuses with a point of her finger.</p><p>“In love?” Her eyelids flutter. “No!” Kara pauses and corrects herself. “Oh, wait! Yes. Yes, I am. I’m in love with James. We are practically living together. Do you think we can get our Holiday mailers out this week?”</p><p>“Yes, by Monday. I promise. I told a friend that I’ll help her move this weekend.” Alex stares at her. “Okay, what is going on?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Kara fibs and adjusts the tilt of her glasses. “Nothing at all.”</p><p>“You know, I’m going to keep standing here until you tell me.”</p><p>“Alright.” Kara boots up the POS system. A blush grows on her round cheeks. “Is it infidelity if you're involved with someone on email?”</p><p>“Have you had sex?”</p><p>“No, I don’t even know her.”</p><p>“Her?!” Alex’s eyes go as wide as her smile following after. “You’re having cybersex with a woman?! Don’t tell Mom that, she’ll blame me, you know.”</p><p>“No! It’s not like that. We just email. It’s really nothing. Of which I’m thinking of stopping because it’s getting a bit-” </p><p>“Out of hand?”</p><p>“Confusing. But it's not!” Kara tries to emphasize with strong hand gestures. “Because it’s nothing, really.”</p><p>“Where did you meet her?”</p><p>“In a queer women 30’s chat room. On my birthday, I wandered in there as a joke and she was there and we started chatting.”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“Books, music… How we both love National City. Harmless stuff. Meaningless.” She laughs and shakes her head, fiddling with her glasses. “Bouquets of sharpened pencils.” </p><p>Alex looks at her like she has three heads. </p><p>“Oh, forget it. We don’t talk about anything personal. I don’t even know her name or where she lives exactly. So it will be easy to stop seeing her, because I’m not.”</p><p>“She could be the next person to walk in the store.” Kara nods with a deep, nervous exhale. But then Alex leans in and adds, “She could be a <em> he </em>, too. You never know who they are, they could be lying. She could be-”</p><p>The shopbell chimes and they both look to see who is walking in.</p><p>“<em> Winn </em>,” Alex whispers, leering in his direction.</p><p>Winn is one of Kara's employees at the store. He’s short, hairy and always wearing baggy plaid shirts or Green Lantern t-shirts. He yawns and waves, scratching himself as he waddles around the counter. “Morning.”</p><p>“Are you online?” Alex asks. Winn pauses to think.</p><p>“As far as I’m concerned,” he states with an unenthused tone. “The internet is just another way to be rejected by a woman.”</p><p>The shopbell chimes again and Eliza walks in with a soft smile. She’s Alex’s mother and a retired physicist, who adopted Kara at 10 years old after Alura passed away. Eliza and her late husband ran the store until Kara grew old enough to take over. Now she lends a hand on their busiest days and helps Kara with accounting. “Good Morning, my loves!”</p><p>“Good morning!”</p><p>“What are we talking about?” Eliza asks, seeing how Alex is hunched over the counter, sharing looks with Kara.</p><p>“Cybersex,” Alex answers and Kara scoffs.</p><p>“I tried having cybersex once but I kept getting a busy signal.” </p><p>“Mom! Ew!”</p><p>“Time to open up!” Kara clips over to the door and flips the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’. Not a few minutes later, customers come trickling in, many with children who were too young to start school just yet. The garbage truck pulls up in front of the shop twenty minutes after opening.</p><p>Kara goes outside to approach the garbage man throwing carpenter-size bags of trash in the back of the truck.</p><p>“Hey, you forgot to pick up the garbage last week and I got a ticket.”</p><p>The man looks at her once over, then folds his arms over his burly chest.</p><p>“We were here, there was no garbage.”</p><p>“Of course there wa-”</p><p>“What do you think I don’t want to pick up your garbage?” He takes a step forward with a heavy scowl on his face. “You think I just go up and down the street picking up garbage and not pick up yours? What’s the matter with you?”</p><p>Kara’s mouth falls open, shocked at such a response. </p><p>“You don’t even bundle it right! You’re supposed to bundle it and leave it near the curb. You leave it near the store and you use cheap bags that smear all over the place. Then I have to shovel it up.” His voice keeps rising in volume, arms dramatically flailing to state his case. Kara steps back, eyes wide in shock. “And now you are busting my chops! You’re just another garbage pick-up to me.”</p><p>After he is done screaming, he waits for her response. Kara looks at the guy hanging from the side of the truck, who’s popping gum in his mouth. She turns around and re-enters the store. Alex is ringing up a sale. </p><p>“That guy went ballistic on me!”</p><p>“Hope you told him off this time,” Alex replies. Kara’s hands form into fists. She moves to the back of the store and screams into a Superman pillow for 45 seconds, then carries on the rest of the day. When those things happen to Kara, she gets angry at herself and thinks about it all day through the happy face she puts on for the customers.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>A couple of blocks from the Shop Around the Corner, is a construction sight draped with concealing plastic sheets. The cab parks right in front and Lena climbs out with Jess behind her, toting trays of coffee and slipping inside. They hand cups to and fro to the delegates with good mornings and hellos. Lena thrusts a venti DoubleShot in Sam Arias’s hand in exchange for a hardhat. Sam is a sharpshooting redhead and is to be the General Manager of the store. Lena considers her a rare, close friend who shares her work ethic.</p><p>“The electrical contractor called, he hit a deer with his truck last night,” Sam starts tailing behind as the boss surveys the scaffolding. “He’s not going to be here until tomorrow. And the shelves are late because the pine we ordered had beetles.”</p><p>“Good, good.” Lena watches the workers tote lumber and power tools to designated stations.</p><p>“We got a $50,000 ticket for construction workers peeing off the roof.”</p><p>“Great. That is great,” Lena responds. “Is the electrician here?”</p><p>“I just told you he hit a deer. I knew you weren’t listening to me.”</p><p>“You’re right, I wasn’t.” With a guilty smirk, Lena continues down a descent of stares to what will be a giant sales-floor. “I hear nothing. Not a sound on the city streets, just the beat of my own heart. I think that’s how it goes. Something like that.”</p><p>Sam stops dead in her tracks.</p><p>“You and Andrea got engaged, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Engaged?!” Lena stops and turns abruptly. “Are you crazy?”</p><p>“Come on!” Sam throws her hands up. “I thought you liked Andrea.”</p><p>“I do!” Lena snips, a bit too sharply. “I do. I love Andrea. Andrea is amazing. She makes coffee nervous.” She slips into her proper business demeanor, resuming the inspection. “Are we still on schedule?”</p><p>“We’re opening two weeks before Thanksgiving.”</p><p>“I guess we should announce ourselves soon, tell people we’re coming.”</p><p>“This is the upper west side of the city. The minute they hear they’re going to be lining up to picket the big bad chainstore that destroys everything we hold dear.” </p><p>Lena turns to her manager with a cunning grin. “But we will seduce them with our square footage and our deep armchairs and our amazing swift checkout lines and our discounts and our-”</p><p>“Cappuccinos.” Lena chuckles then walks through the rest of the sight like she owns the place -because she does. Her heels clip with purpose, radiating power and pride from her pores. This was the first project Lex had given her with full control and she intends to see it through flawlessly.</p><p>“They’ll hate us in the beginning, but we will get them in the end. Because we will be selling them cheap books and legally addictive stimulants. Meanwhile, we should put up a sign-” Lena gestures her hands out to express her vision. “Coming soon, Luthor Books Superstore and the end of Western Civilization as we know it.”</p><p>“I’ll get it up by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Good.” Lena turns to Sam with a smile. “I expect a flawless open. No hiccups. We need to make a great impression.” </p><p>“You got it.”</p><p> </p><p>After the status visit, Lena takes an elevator further up the building with two cups gripped in her fists. The door opens and she strides across a large office bearing a huge glowing logo:<em> Luthor Corp </em>. She heads straight to the private room in the back, where her brother Lex puts a golf ball into an empty mug. She hands him his coffee and sips on her own from the comfort of his new office couch. Her legs, skinned in soft black stockings, sling over the arm in an improper manner. Lillian, their mother, eyes her disapproval from her seat at the desk.</p><p>The Luthors had always been in business since Lionel, their father, made his fortune in commercial real estate. He was a very outspoken man who, in turn, married a very outspoken woman, Lillian. By sheer luck only, the two of them shared opinions on politics and their preference for status. </p><p>At 45 years old, Lex runs the business now, if only under the watchful eye of mother dearest.</p><p>“How’s construction?”</p><p>“We should open on time,” Lena announces, palming a bright blue cushion. “What is this fabric? Does it have a name?”</p><p>“Money,” Lex answers with a grumble. “It’s name is Money.”</p><p>“Ardora selected it?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Your brother is getting married again.”</p><p>“What?” Lena whips her head at him, locking her green eyes to the shiniest spot on his bald head. “Congratulations, Lex. But why?”</p><p>“Who knows?” Lex shrugs. He takes his shot then groans when the ball plinks off the mug’s edge. He gives up and sits at the big chair of his desk. “Why does anyone get married?”</p><p>“Love?” Lena guesses, earning a laugh from the two other Luthors.</p><p>“Yes, that’s one reason,” Lex says.</p><p>“I think you're a damned fool.” Lillian shoots her son her classic death stare, twirling a pen in her long, manicured fingers.</p><p>“Mother, Junior is four. It would be nice for him if his parents were married.”</p><p>“And how did it work out for you two? I should have divorced Lionel the day he brought Lena home. He couldn’t even remember her real mother’s name. No offense, darling.”</p><p>“None taken.” Lena waves it off. A long time ago, she would have bristled. She’s older now, more confident, with a thicker skin. “She does have a point though. Dad was a prick.”</p><p>“He made us rich, though,” Lex defends through the lip of his mochachino, soy, extra hot. “And he taught us how to stay rich.”</p><p>“Speaking of which.” Lena twists on the couch to face them. “I have a very sad announcement to make.” She winks an eye and points a finger gun in Lex’s direction. “City Books on 23rd Street is going under.”</p><p>“Ha!” Lex smacks a knee, grinning like a fool. “Another independent bookstore bites the dust. On to the next one.”</p><p>“I’m buying their entire stock.” Gazin up at the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling, Lena sighs with satisfaction stretched on her red lips. “The architecture is historical. Will be nice for the new store.”</p><p>“How much are you paying?” Lillian asks.</p><p>“Whatever the cost. It won’t be nearly as much as this god-ugly sofa. We’re also going to have a section for West Side Writers as a sop to the neighborhood.”</p><p>“Perfect,” Lex chimes. “It’ll keep those Westside Liberal nut pseudo-intellectual bleeding hearts-”</p><p>“Readers, Lex!” Lena then springs up off the couch and joins the two of them at the desk, sitting on the edge. “They're called readers.”</p><p>“Don’t romanticize them. It’ll keep them from jumping down your throat.”</p><p>“What’s the competition?” Lillian asks.</p><p>“One mystery store across the street,” Lena replies. “The Shop Around the Corner. They sell comics and children’s books. Been there forever.”</p><p>“Alura’s store.” Lillian sighs. “She and her husband ran that store for years. Sickeningly good people. Alura and I used to write letters to each other after University, I think. She was enchanting.”</p><p>“Letters?”</p><p>“Mail. It was called mail. Stamps and envelopes.”</p><p>“Oh! I get it. That was a form of communication before I was born.”</p><p>“Alura Zorelle had beautiful penmanship,” Lillian mentions, overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia. “She was very lovely. Husband passed away in a terrible automobile accident. And she succumbed to cancer a few years after. Her daughter owns it now.”</p><p>“Too bad for her.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lena and Kara are closer than they think.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>At the end of the day, Lena walks Hope across the city park where Kara takes her evening runs. Kara passes her every late afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>My brother is getting married again. For five years he’s been living with a woman who studied decorating at Caesar’s Palace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Every morning, Kara crosses paths with Lena to get to the downtown tunnels. She rushes down the stairs, hops on the train and reads during her commute to work.</span>
</p><p><b><em>SuperGirl:</em></b> <em><span>Once I read a story about a butterfly on a subway. Today I saw one! It got on at 42nd and got off at 59th , where I assume it was going to Bloomingdale’s to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake, as almost all hats are.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>When Lena can’t sleep, she takes Hope on a midnight walk and passes a bagel shop that Kara eats at at least once a week with Alex and Eliza.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Get this: Every night, a truck stops and pumps about a ton of flour in underground tanks at my neighborhood bagel shop. The air is filled with white dust that never seems to land. Why is that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena starts reading one of Jane Austen’s classics and she can’t stand it, but she keeps reading anyway because Kara suggested it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Confession: I’ve probably read Pride and Prejudice about 200 times. I get lost in the eloquent language like “thither, mischance, felicity”. And every time I read it I worry that Elizebeth and Mr. Darcy are not going to get together. Read it, I know you’ll love it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara smiles at a newly organized bookshelf in her store and plucks a copy of Homer Price to display front and center because it’s Lena’s favorite.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Did you ever read Homer Price? My all-time favorite children’s book. There is a doughnut machine in it that won’t stop making doughnuts, they just keep coming down the chute just as regular as a clock can tick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena stops in front of a doughnut factory that Kara tells her about. Her eyes light up at the machine in the window. Hot, glazed doughnuts pump out as fast as a regular clock can tick. She goes in to buy a few boxes for the construction workers.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Have you been to Krispy Kreme? There is a doughnut machine right in the window that makes 110,000 doughnuts an hour. It makes me so happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They get coffee every morning at the same Starbucks. Sometimes, Lena is just a few persons down from Kara in line, thinking about the vast variety on how to order a coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>The purpose of places like Starbucks is for people who have no decision-making ability. You have to make six decisions for one cup of coffee. Short, tall. Light, dark. Caf, half-caf, decaf. Full fat, 2%, skim… etc. So people don’t know what the hell they’re doing or who on earth they are. For $6.89, you get not just a cup of coffee, but a defining sense of self. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara orders a tall, full fat, caramel macchiato, with extra caramel of course. When she gets her drink and leaves, Lena is at the counter ordering a grande dark roast, black.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Outside, across the street, a sign is being painted on the construction sight. </p><p>“A Luthor Books Superstore?!” Alex is shocked and so was everyone else. “Small biz nightmare.”</p><p>Kara beholds the sign with a silent reverence before responding. “It has nothing to do with us,” she says with assurance. “It’s big, impersonal, overstocked and filled with ignorant salespeople.” </p><p>“But they discount,” Winn dejects.</p><p>“But they don’t provide any service,” Kara shoots back with a turn of her heel and her chin raised high. “We do. You know how there are multiple flower shops in one district? It’ll be like that. This will be the book district. If they don’t have it, we do.”</p><p>“And vice versa,” Eliza adds, trying to be as optimistic as Kara was.</p><p>“Absolutely.” Kara nods. “It’ll be fine.” Throughout the day at the shop, customers pile in and mention the new upcoming store with worried faces. Kara refuses to look up the information on her phone to spare herself the stress. However, everyone else talks about the Luthors. </p><p>It's all she hears from the customers. About how they own a variety of chain stores of all sorts of products all across the country, buying up businesses for real estate just to make profits on bulk, discounted wares. They are no different than the Rockefeller’s or J.P. Morgan. Cold and uncaring about people as a whole. Money is the only thing they love, and it makes Kara sad to think about how shallow and empty their lives must be. It makes her think about her own life.</p><p> </p><p>When she gets home from work, James knows too. It’s his business to know. He’s a columnist. Kara slightly envies him for having a career that he chose for himself, crafting his writing on various subjects with many loyal readers. Kara only runs a little bookstore she inherited from her parents, never reaching further than the corner of the street.</p><p>James reads her a section of an article he wrote that will be in the Tribune the next morning.</p><p>“When you are done with Luthor Books, The Shop Around the Corner is going to be responsible for reversing the entire course of the Industrial Revolution.”</p><p>“Aw, James!” Kara drapes her arms over his neck and places a kiss on his brown cheek. “That’s so sweet, thank you.” They’re in the dining room and when Kara looks down she sees an object on the table, hidden underneath a cover. “Wait a minute, what is that doing here?”</p><p>“Oh!” James throws the paper down and sheds his jacket. “This is amazing!” He pulls the cover off and reveals a brand new typewriter. Excitedly, James leans over it and whispers, “Listen.”</p><p>Kara leans in, hearing nothing.</p><p>“The Olympia Report Deluxe Electric.”</p><p>“Report?”</p><p>“Like a gunshot.”</p><p>“That sounds familiar,” she hums.</p><p>“Listen!”</p><p>“What, that whirring?”</p><p>“A gentle soothing lullaby of a machine so perfect that-”</p><p>“I know where I heard that from.” Kara strides over to the other side of the table and lifts the cover off of an identical typewriter. James’s mouth hangs open.</p><p>“I needed a back up.”</p><p>“Don’t you have another one at your apartment?”</p><p>“Yes.” He puts his fists on his hips, glancing between the two typewriters and Kara. “Who cares?”</p><p>Kara goes to say something but comes up short and bites her tongue. She walks towards the kitchen.</p><p>“What were you going to say?”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Before, just now.”</p><p>“Nothing, it's just.” Her hands flop at her sides. “I’m just wondering about my work. What is it that I do exactly? All I do is-” James raises a finger and silences her.</p><p>“All you really do is this incredibly noble thing!”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Kara fumbles and starts to pace, feeling lost. “Really, I’m just-”</p><p>“Kara!” He strides over with a hand on her shoulder. “You... are a lone reed.”</p><p>She stutters at his declaration and watches as he sits at the typewriter, loads it with a piece of white and types with the noisy clanging of the keys. “You are a lone reed… standing tall, waving boldly in the corrupt sands of commerce.”</p><p>The page rips from the holder and is placed in Kara’s hand. She contemplates on the words with a hum. “I… am a lone reed.” Huh.</p><p>“Lone reed.”</p><p>She walks away and James nods, muttering his words as he loads another page. Kara sits at her desk, signs online and writes to her dearest friend while James clanks away in the background.</p><p><b> <em>SuperGirl:</em> </b> <em> Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, not small, but circumscribed. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of what I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void. </em></p><p> </p><p>At the end of the following day, Kara and Alex decide to get some coffee at a local spot. As they walk toward the back of the cafe for a table, Kara notices a bunch of loose-leaf binders stacked on a shelf.</p><p>“I went to the Luthor Books website,” Alex mentions and takes a seat. “You can buy any book and get a free digital copy of it for those e-readers. Maybe we should do something like that.”</p><p>“How can you enjoy a book you can’t even hold?” Kara frowns. “You know what I’m talking about. All that screen time can’t be good for you. Real books are for real people who appreciate authenticity. My mother would have thought as much.”</p><p>“What if they put us out of business?”</p><p>“It won’t happen. We’re a fixture of the neighborhood. Practically a landmark.” Kara indicates to the binders. “Men for Women. Women for Men. Women for Women. What is this?”</p><p>“You fill out the forms, they file it in a book, and if someone wants to meet you, they arrange it,” Alex explains.</p><p>“What a stupid way to meet someone.”</p><p>“Compared to the internet?”</p><p>“My little thing on the internet is just a lark.”</p><p>“So it’s still going on?”</p><p>“And I don’t plan on meeting her,” Kara says, pointing to the Women for Women binder. “Why do I get the feeling that you are in here somewhere?”</p><p>Alex plucks the binder up, and opens it to her application. “I came here one night and drank too much coffee and filled one out.” Kara gives her a look. “Well I’m not having any luck with those dating apps, how else am I supposed to meet someone?”</p><p>“You are a runner,” Kara declares, looking over the application. “Someday you’ll make eye contact with another runner and-”</p><p>“No one ever looks at other runners. We are there to run, not to windowshop for pussy.” Alex sighs and yanks the book out of Kara’s hands. “On top of which, who are they? They could like the symphony. I could never be with someone who likes to go to the symphony.”</p><p>“I know!” Kara agrees and laughs. “Like, what are you supposed to do there? Sit. You just sit there.”</p><p>“I could never fall in love with a woman who smokes cigars.”</p><p>“I’ll tell you what I hate.” Kara sips her coffee. “Big fat ankles. Like stumps.”</p><p>“Yeah, I hate that too.”</p><p>“Also, under no circumstance could I ever fall in love with someone who had a sailboat. If I had to get up every Saturday morning and go to the pier and unravel all those ropes and put on all that sunblock-”</p><p>“All that talk about wind.”</p><p>“And then you have to go out on the boat, and you sail and sail and sail until you are bored witless, and then, only then, do they say, let’s turn around and you realize the trip is only half over, only it’s not, because the wind has changed.”</p><p>“It hasn’t changed. It’s died.”</p><p>“So then there’s more talk about the wind. While you just float up and down trying not to get nauseous. And when you finally get back, you have to clean up the boat.”</p><p>“Why don’t people have boat maids?” Alex asks.</p><p>“I know! There’s all these people who wouldn’t be caught dead polishing a doorknob in their house but put them on a boat and they want to rub down everything in sight.”</p><p>“When they should be rubbing you down instead.”</p><p>“Yes!” Kara giggles and shakes her head. “That’s the thing, too. The boat gets all the attention.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll marry a police woman,” Alex says. “Crime fighters never have time for boats.”</p><p>“Are there police women in here?” Kara sifts through the applications. “Ah! This one here. Maggie. You should meet up with her.”</p><p>“Let me see that!” Alex swipes the binder ficiously and Kara laughs.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Dreamer’s Bay is a second home to Lena. Her boat is there. It’s a small sailor with no engine, just the wind to push you across the waves in the expanse of the ocean. Her father taught both her and Lex to sail when they were young, and she loved it. A gentle breeze had been fluttering in her hair all morning as she made sure that the <em> Lioness </em> was up to shape.</p><p>For once, she didn’t have a suit on. Her legs were wrapped in white denim that rose waist high and her blouse was a black crop top accessorized with a pale blue scarf. It was refreshing to have a day off from the selling, scheming and conquering the chaotic business world. Today, she doesn’t have to be Lena Luthor, COO of Luthor Corp. Just Lena.</p><p>“Lena! Lena!”</p><p>Lena lifts her head up from her task of polishing a brass fixture with a soft cloth. Her red lips pull up in a large smile, showing her gleaming white teeth underneath her aviators. Two children came running up the dock. The oldest was Ruby, Sam’s only daughter, and Lexington Luthor II, or Junior, as everyone calls him. Ardora and Sam are treading behind the tots up the dock.</p><p>Lena waves at them from the port side and hops off the boat to meet them. She swoops Junior up by the pits and spins him around, making him laugh and squeal. “Hey, tiger! How are you?”</p><p>“Good!” After he’s put down, Junior giggles as his aunt scrubs his sandy hair, then smooths it back affectionately after.</p><p>“Ruby, darling.” Lena wraps an arm around the ten year old’s neck with a loving squeeze and a kiss on top of her head.</p><p>“Hi,” Ruby smiles, insinuating her soft brown hair and eyes. Lena grins at Sam. “She’s gonna be a killer in a few years, are you prepared?”</p><p>“God, no, please,” Sam turns to her daughter and says, “Stop growing.”</p><p>They share a laugh, then Ardora approaches, looking stiff in a tight dress and a blonde bun.</p><p>“I don’t get a hello?”</p><p>“Hello, Ardora,” Lena greets with less enthusiasm.</p><p>“Kiss me, I’m going to be your wicked sister-in-law,” she commands in her British accent and a turn of her cheek. Lena hesitates at first relents to giving her a quick peck on the cheek. </p><p>“Are you sure you don’t need a nanny?” Ardora asks. “I can get her here in a jiffy if the children are too much for you.”</p><p>Lena shares a look with Sam. “We’ll be fine. You have a lovely time in wine country with Lex. Be sure to bring me a bottle of something, huh?”</p><p>“Of course, love!” Lena winces a bit as her future sister-in-law kisses her again, a little too close to the lips this time. When she pulls away, Ardora gives her a sly grin and turns to her son. “You behave for Auntie Lena, yes?”</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>Lena gives Sam a big bear hug. “And you enjoy your complimentary spa day, no working. Promise?”</p><p>“I promise. Thank you, by the way.”</p><p>“You deserve it.” Lena turns to the kids with wide open arms. “Alright, who’s ready to go sailing?”</p><p>“No!” Both of them yell back at her, making her gasp in a non-committal shock.</p><p>“What happened to you?!”</p><p>“I kind of mentioned the fall festival that’s happening downtown,” Sam confesses. “Sorry.”</p><p>“That’s okay.” Lena rolls the rejection off easily. “We’ll have fun, regardless.” With another squeezing hug, Sam leaves and Lena is alone with two children. In a small way, she’s freaking out about it. Luckily, Ruby takes the lead a bit, pulling Lena by one hand, making her drag Junior with the other. </p><p>The fall festival was crowded with families, vendors and all sorts of fun things. Carnival rides, games, food, music and performers that could bend were all there. Lena buys them cotton candy, face painting, and tryouts at the games. Junior wins a goldfish that Lena is toting around in a plastic bag, praying that it’ll stay alive by the end of the day.</p><p>She was having fun. Which was a bit surprising to her with her lack of experience in entertaining kids. She even shamelessly walks down the street, wearing gigantic clown sunglasses that matched Ruby and Junior’s. If paparazzi ever saw her, she’ll never hear the end of it from Lillian.</p><p>On the corner of a street, they stop at a sign that reads: Mice in the Cookie Jar by the Storybook Lady. 3:00pm’.</p><p>“Oh, please! Can we go in?!” Ruby turns to her with pleading eyes. “I want to see the Storybook Lady!”</p><p>“Yeah! Me, too!” Junior says and Lena checks her watch for the time. She blanches at the name of the shop, but the desperate looks on the children’s faces yanked on her heartstrings.</p><p>“Don’t you want to go see a movie instead?” </p><p>“No!” “No!”</p><p>“Alright, let’s go quietly, the story probably has already started.”</p><p>“Yay!” They cheer and skip and drag Lena by the hand inside the Shop Around the Corner.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“That it was I, and I alone, who had the idea for the great and daring mouse plot. We all have our moments of brilliance and glory and this was mine.” Kara sits in the corner of the shop on a big cushion, reading from a book to at least thirty kids all crammed up together like sardines, eagerly engaged. She’s wearing a glittery cone hat with a long cluster of ribbons that drape over her shoulder.</p><p>“'Why don't we,' I said. 'Slip it into one of Mrs. Pratchett's jars of sweets? And then when she puts her dirty hand in to grab a handful, she will grab a stinky dead mouse instead!’ She scrunches up her nose for effect and beams with pride when she earns a few giggles from the crowd. She notices that there is a woman sitting on the floor in the back and it makes her happy. Most parents will just drop their kids off and return later when the story is over. This woman looks just as engaged in the story as the kids were, with intense green eyes and a soft curve on her painted mouth. Kara finds her strikingly pretty, like a model.</p><p>“The other four stared at me in wonder. Then, as the sheer genius of the plot began to sink in. They all started grinning. They slapped me on the back, cheered me and danced around the classroom. 'We will do it today! ' they cried. 'We'll do it on the way home. You had the idea,' they said to me. 'So you can be the one who puts the mouse in the jar.”</p><p>More laughter starts to erupt, and Kara grins at a little boy that is seated next to his pretty mom, keeling over in giggles. She excitedly reads the rest of the book to the group, beaming with warmth at sharing one of her favorite books. </p><p>The story ends and the rest of the parents return, lingering with their children to shop for books to bring home. She gets slightly jealous when she sees Winn talking to the pretty brunette in the corner by the first edition’s case.</p><p>“The illustrations are hand-tipped,” he explains, looking nervous as the woman is fingering the pages of a collector’s item.</p><p>“And that’s why it costs so much?” she asks.</p><p>“Well, that’s why it’s worth so much.”</p><p>The customer hums, closes the book and hands it back to him. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Kara turns to a little shopper. She has soft brown hair and a curious excitement over a children's book series.</p><p>“And this is her best friend Tacy, whose real name is Anastasia. And the next book, Betsy and Tacy become friends with Tib, whose real name, I am sorry to tell you, is Thelma.”</p><p>The girl laughs and grimaces at the same time. The brunette who Winn was helping turns to them, not saying a word. Nervousness crawls up Kara’s neck all of a sudden at her presence.</p><p>“It’s really nice for your mom to buy you all these books,” Kara tells Ruby, trying to include the brunette in the conversation somehow.</p><p>“Oh, she’s not my mom, that’s my boss.” </p><p>“She is your boss?!” Kara echoes and the woman raises her eyebrows with a nod.</p><p>“That’s right,” the woman confirms. “Ruby is my stylist. She comes to my house every week to select my outfits so I can save time.”</p><p>“And Junior is-”</p><p>“Wait, let me guess.” Kara holds up a finger, humming at the little boy in deep thought. “You are her butler.”</p><p>“No!” The child bends over and laughs.</p><p>“Gardener?” Kara guesses next, enjoying how he’s in a fit of giggles. “Oh, I know! You are her driver.”</p><p>“I’m her nephew!”</p><p>“Oooh!”</p><p>“Her driver’s name is Tom.”</p><p>“What’s your name, then?”</p><p>“Junior.”</p><p>Kara smiles and looks up, to find Lena smiling at her, too. It’s a beautiful smile. They stare at each other for a few seconds until a sneeze suddenly explodes out of Ruby. </p><p>“Bless you!” Kara pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to her. “There you go, young lady.”</p><p>“What’s this?” Ruby asks, fiddling with the cloth curiously as Kara rounds the other side of the counter, next to another employee who was ringing another customer up.</p><p>“Kids these days don’t know what a handkerchief is these days? It's like a kleenex that you don’t throw away.” Ruby wipes her hands and hands it back to her. “See here? My mother embroidered this with my initials and plumerias. Because plumerias are my favorite flower.”</p><p>Kara smiles and cheerfully keys in the amounts on the till with every book while the black-hair beauty continues to stare at her with a strange fascination.</p><p>“May I ask who you are?”</p><p>“Kara Danvers,” she answers with a big smile. “I own this store, and you are?”</p><p>“Lena, just call me Lena.” Lena snatches the stack of four books from Ruby’s hands and hands them to Winn, who’s been staring the entire time. “We’ll take these books.”</p><p>“Okay, hey, you’re gonna come back right?” Winn asks her.</p><p>“Oh!” Lena grins and nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Of course. Absolutely.”</p><p>“See?” Winn turns to Kara. “That is exactly why we are not going to go under because our customers are loyal.” The shop owner nods approvingly and forces a smile. </p><p>“They're opening a Luthor Books store right across the street.” Kara rolls her eyes. “Lex Luthor thinks he can just buy the whole city.”</p><p>“Luthor Books!” Ruby pipes up. “My mommy-”</p><p>“Likes to get discounts!” Lena interrupts with a hand on the girl’s mouth. “But you don’t need to tell her that, darling. That’s nothing to be proud of.”</p><p>“L-E-X.”</p><p>“Wow, you can spell the name Lex!” Kara beholds Junior as if he was a little genius. “Can you spell your name?”</p><p>“L-E-X.”</p><p>“Jay! Junior, your name starts with a Jay.” Lena lets out a breathless laugh, tightening her lips thinly. Lips that Kara seems to be absolutely fascinated by at that moment. Swiping a comic book from a display rack, Lena shoves it into the boy’s face. </p><p>“See this pop-up Batman book? Isn’t that cool? Wouldn’t you want to read a comic book like that? Go look at it and let the adults talk. Ruby, go keep an eye on him.” She turns to Kara with a big, bright smile, almost too bright. Happy to be distracted by cartoon drawings and animated cardboard, Junior and Ruby obey her without complaint.</p><p>“We’ll take the Batman comic, too,” Lena says, sweeping the stray black hairs from her face. </p><p>“Anyways, the world isn’t driven by discounts,” Kara tells her while Winn rings up the purchase. “I've been in business forever. I started helping my mother when I was 6, and I used to watch her. She wasn't just selling books. She was helping people become whatever they were going to be. When you read a book as a child, it becomes part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your life does.” Kara sees Lena staring at her again with an unreadable expression. She blushes. “And I have gotten carried away.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lena breathes, fluttering her thick eyelashes. “You made me feel… <em> enchanted </em>. Your mother was enchanting.”</p><p>“Yes, she was.” Kara sighs warmly. </p><p>“How will you be paying?” Winn asks.</p><p>“Cash.”</p><p>“Wait, how did you know that my mother was enchanting?”</p><p>“From the picture.” Lena points it out on the wall. “Isn’t that you and your mother. What are you doing there?”</p><p>“Oh!” Kara smiles and sighs with nostalgia. “Twirling. My mother and I used to twirl. She left the store to me after her passing. Someday, I’ll give this place down to my own daughter.”</p><p>Lena is still staring, mouth slightly agape.</p><p>“Seventy three dollars, please,” Winn says, snapping Lena out of her trance.</p><p>“Oh… how much?”</p><p>“Seventy three,” he repeats and Lena looks surprised at the number. After digging in her wallet, forks over the cash without argument.</p><p>“How old is your daughter now?” Lena asks her.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t have one.” Kara laughs nervously now, shaking her head. “I’m not married.” Under more observation, Kara catches a necklace dangling from Lena’s neck. It’s a silver chain with a rainbow circle pendant. “Oh, that’s pretty. Did your boyfriend give that to you?”</p><p>“This?” Lena fingers the necklace peeking out underneath her scarf. “No, I’m gay. Hence the rainbow.”</p><p>“Oh!” Kara’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “That-that’s just swell!”</p><p>“Yeah…” Lena clears her throat and takes the cloth shopping bag of product from Winn’s hand. “Well, thank you for the story and the books.” She turns to the children. “Alright, let’s go!”</p><p>“Bye, Kara!” Ruby waves cheerfully as they head towards the exit.</p><p>“Bye, Ruby!” Kara waves back. “Oh, Junior! Can you spell dog?”</p><p>“L-E-X.”</p><p>Lena laughs and blushes a bright pink. She knees the child out the door since her hands are full with balloons, bags of fish, and shopping bags. When the door closes the balloons get trapped inside. It opens again and Lena chuckles at herself. “At least it wasn’t the fish! Thanks.” She gives Kara a little nod before finally leaving.</p><p>Kara giggles and sighs, placing a hand over her heart to feel it racing. “Oh my, she was so pretty…”</p><p>“Is it just me, or did you two just have an affair with your eyes?”</p><p>Kara’s head whips to Alex, who stood there with a wad of gum rolling around in her smirking mouth. “What?! No. You’re being silly. I’m with James.”</p><p>“And also involved with a woman online.”</p><p>“It’s not like that.”</p><p>“Uh, huh.” Alex hums while thumbing through a rock magazine. “So glad I only swing for one team. Bisexuality sounds messy.”</p><p>“Especially with women like that,” Kara agrees. “Do you think she’s a model? I feel like I’ve seen her face somewhere before.”</p><p>Alex’s shrugs. “Maybe, yeah. Or she could just have one of those faces.”</p><p>Who knows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luthor Books opens and Kara’s world starts to spiral out of control. Lena is exposed and shit hits the fan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luthor Books opens two weeks before Thanksgiving. And it’s amazing. Everything is big and lit up like Christmas with hundreds of titles from authors all over the place at affordable prices. The coffee bar is steaming nonstop with delicious pastries flying out of the case like hot cakes. They were a smash hit. People lined up at the door for the grand opening to look upon the shelves with awe and delight. </p><p>“No protests, no demonstrations.” Lena proudly examines the patrons as they made her store like a second home. Sam, Lex and Lillian smile along, following her around the featured displays and tables.</p><p>“The neighborhood loves us,” Sam says.</p><p>“They're wondering where we’ve been all these years,” Lex adds, practically smelling the money already. “How’s the children’s department?”</p><p>“Well, it’s early.” Lena leads them up a spiral staircase to the young reader’s section. “School’s not out yet, and there’s still that Shop Around the Corner.”</p><p>“Alura’s store,” Lillian says. “She was enchanting.”</p><p>“Her daughter owns it now,” Lena reminds them.</p><p>“We’ll crush it,” Lex affirms. “Parents won’t be able to resist our prices.”</p><p>“You did good, Lena.”</p><p>“We all did.” She turns to them at the top of the stairs with a sly smirk. “Now, how are we celebrating?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“They’ve been open for six days, and we did $1200 less than we did the same week last year,” Eliza announced from the back office.</p><p>“Well, that could be a fluke right?” Kara wonders out loud.</p><p>“Or not.”</p><p>“Their store is new, it's a novelty. It will all shake out. In the meantime, I’m putting up more twinkle lights.”</p><p>“That’s a fine idea.”</p><p>“What if we have to fold?” Alex frowns. “We won’t be able to work together anymore and I’m gonna have to move back in with Mom because I can’t pay my rent.”</p><p>“Ah the joy of rent control,” Winn declares while polishing the wooden surface of the counter. “Six rooms and $450 a month each.”</p><p>“We know, you’ve mentioned that a hundred times,” Alex draws, growing frustrated with the entanglement of the twinkle lights in her hands. “Why would you bring that up in a time like this? It’s like those people who brag because they're tall.”</p><p>“Guys, we are not going to fold!” Kara declares.</p><p>“This place is a tomb.” Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Winn heads out the door. “I’m going to the nut shop, where it’s fun.”</p><p>“Winn!”</p><p>Winn is gone to brood somewhere. Kara and Alex continue to work the twinkle lights together until the door chimes open long past closing.</p><p>“Cat!”</p><p>“Oh, thank god, you are still here!” Cat Grant, best selling author and news publicist for a tween girl magazine, has just burst through the door. “Are you surviving?” The petite, middle aged, blonde shoves her coat in Alex’s twinkling grip without a care. </p><p>“We are so excited about your new book.” Kara takes Cat’s scarf and gloves, following behind as she takes a seat and asks for tea, two sugars.</p><p>“When should we schedule a signing?” Kara pours a mug of hot water from the electric kettle, providing a packet of Earl Grey and two paper pouches of cane sweetener. </p><p>Cat sighs heavily, ripping the tea packet open like a bag of skittles. “It’s being published in January.” A spoon rattles against the ceramic. “Are you still going to be in business by then? I’m so worried.”</p><p>“We’re doing great! Aren’t we?”</p><p>“No difference whatsoever!” Eliza shouts from the computer desk in the back.</p><p>“Oh, thank god!” Cat exhales and grabs onto Kara’s forearm. “You can rely on me for anything. Support, rallies, picket lines. We can get the Planet to write something. Or that nut from the Tribune.”</p><p>“What nut from the Tribune?”</p><p>“That James something-or-another.” Cat flaps her hands about, uncaring. “The one who’s in love with his typewriter. This sort of thing would outrage him.”</p><p> </p><p>“A nut?” James parrots from behind the driver's side of the cab, flabbergasted. “Cat Grant called me a nut?”</p><p>“Ta not da point.” Kara gazes out of the window, biting the polish off her nails. She’s wearing a black, long sleeve dress with a white sash. “The point is, she thinks my store is in trouble. Why would she say that? There’s enough business for everyone.”</p><p>“Yes, yes there is.”</p><p>“We are <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>“You’re more than fine.” James nods his head. “You’re absolutely fine.” They park and stride up the steps to a party. It's a gathering for Clark Kent, Kara’s cousin and an outstanding journalist. A mix of book people, journalists and media folk are there in celebration of his recent publication: <em> Searching for Superman </em>.</p><p>Clark is a tall, handsome man who shares Kara’s charming smile. His black hair is always slick with pommade because heaven forbid that a single strand falls out of place. Upon arrival, he embraces Kara in a warm hug and gives James a nice sturdy shake.</p><p>“Hey, Clark! Congratulations,” James says with his widest smile.</p><p>“How are you?” Clark asks Kara a bit solemnly. His worried expression bothers her. But as he goes to tell her something, James swoops in.</p><p>“Guess who I saw on the subway today?” He slings an arm around Clark, steering him away from Kara to spare her feelings. “Bill Gates.”</p><p>“Isn’t he in Washington?”</p><p>A long, deep sigh leaves Kara’s chest. She heads straight for the refreshment table next to a woman who’s dressed in a suit.</p><p>“Absolut on the rocks, please,” she orders, fidgeting and steering away almost intentionally from Kara’s view of her face. She seems familiar.</p><p>“White wine, please,” Kara orders with a faint smile and is served right away. The woman waits for her drink, and Kara dips to catch a glimpse of her face. She finally sees and recognizes her immediately. “Oh! Hello there!” </p><p>Lena turns, looking absolutely beautiful. Her blazer is a deep maroon color with a lacy blouse underneath that crawled high up her neck and tucked in a black pencil skirt. All the breath is stolen from Kara’s lungs. When their eyes meet, Lena seems to be unpleasantly stunned to see her. “Hi…” she says half-heartedly.</p><p>“Remember me?” Kara nervously fingers her own hair, blushing. “From the bookstore?”</p><p>Lena’s red lips stretched into a tight, over-friendly smile. “Of course I remember you.”</p><p>“How’s your stylist?” Kara jests and Lena gives her a breathy laugh.</p><p>“Good. She’s good.” The server hands Lena her drink. “I have to deliver this, I have a very thirsty date. She’s part camel.”</p><p>Kara chuckles. Before Lena leaves, she reaches out to clarify, “It’s Lena, right?”</p><p>“And you're Kara Danvers.” Lena keeps grinning, tipping the glass in the air for a good gesture. She disappears into the party among the bustle of people. Kara stands there, with butterflies in her stomach, wondering how someone so pretty can exist. If she wasn’t already with James... She sips her drink and maneuvers to a corner, daydreaming. Why was she with James? They share the same social circle, but-</p><p>A minute later, Clark appears at her side looking distraught. “I can’t believe you just were talking to Lena Luthor.”</p><p>“Lena Luthor? As in-”</p><p>“As in Luthor books. As in they’re going to take over everything. Lena’s Lex Luthor’s little sister. And the powerhouse behind the superstore’s opening, buying up small businesses just to close them for real estate.” His voice falls into a harsh whisper. “God, Kara, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to be here. I invited Andrea Rojas and she brought her as her plus one.” </p><p>Opening and closing several times, Kara’s mouth couldn’t find words. Clark apologizes to her again and disappears, leaving her to stew in her shock. </p><p>The first thing she feels is embarrassment heating her face, coloring her ears. How can she be so stupid? Lena<em> fucking </em> Luthor. Of course. Why, it’s just her luck that she would even meet the woman and find her attractive. In a matter of seconds, Kara’s embarrassment turns into anger. Lena Luthor was in her store, scheming to infiltrate and destroy Kara’s mother’s legacy, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And Kara was just <em> fantasizing </em> about her. She didn’t know whether to be more angry at herself or the enemy. All in all, she is incredibly pissed off.</p><p>A few minutes later, Kara finds Lena at the banquet table, gingerly portioning out hors d'oeuvres on a small plate with her back to the room. Why does she have to be so damn attractive? Those curves, the long length of her neck and such a sharp, distinguished jawline. It’s infuriating.</p><p>Kara steps right up to her.</p><p>“Luthor?” Kara says with shock still laced in her throat. “You’re Lex Luthor’s sister?”</p><p>Lena spins around, looks at her with those piercing sea-blue pupils, and answers, “L-E-X.” She then turns back to the table and carries on. Kara huffs, grabs herself a plate and angrily scoops up her own portion.</p><p>“God, I didn’t realize- I didn’t know who you were.”</p><p>“Yes, well…” Lena clears her throat. Her smile is gone, replaced with a stoney, cold expression. Her true colors. “Now you know.” </p><p>“You were spying on me, weren’t you?” Kara laughs at her own stupidity. “You probably rented those children.”</p><p>Lena snorts. “And why would I spy on you?”</p><p>“I’m your competition,” Kara proclaims. “Which you know perfectly well or you would have not put up that sign saying ‘Just around the corner’. Next thing you’ll be using twinkle lights.”</p><p>“Twinkle lights?” Lena arches a perfectly manicured brow, not looking remorseful for one minute.</p><p>“Little Christmas lights that twinkle?” Her voice sinks to a harsh, angry whisper as to not disturb the other guests. “I use them in my window displays, as if you didn’t notice.”</p><p>A serving spoon clatters against a dish and Lena turns sharply towards her. “Look,” she starts. “The reason I came into your store is that I was spending time with Ruby and Junior-”</p><p>“<em> Lex </em> Luthor Junior.”</p><p>“Yes!” Lena hisses back. “Lex Luthor, the second. I like to buy them a present when I see them because I’m one of those people who likes to buy their way into the hearts of children who are close to them, or related. You just so happened to capture their interests with cookies and mice. A fairy princess with personalized handkerchiefs, sparkly hats and candy jars. How am I to say no to that?”</p><p>Kara gets off put by the harsh, sarcastic tone Lena was using. Before she could respond, Lena adds, “You have a charming little bookstore. You probably sell $350,000 worth of books a year.”</p><p>Kara gawks. “How do you know that?”</p><p>“I’m in the book business.”</p><p>“<em> I’m </em> in the book business!” Kara counters.</p><p>“I see.” Lena steers to the other side of the table to speak directly, also to put some distance between them. “And we are the Price Club. Instead of a 10-gallon vat of personal lubricant that can’t even fit underneath your bathroom sink for just $5.99, we sell cheap books. Me, a spy? Absolutely. I managed to get my hands on a secret printout of the sales figure of a bookstore so inconsequential and yet full of its own virtue that I instantly rushed over in fears of it putting me out of business.”</p><p>Kara stares at her, mouth agape and speechless. </p><p>“What?” Lena scoffs at the look she’s given. Shaking her head in disbelief, Kara refuses to answer. “<em> What? </em>”</p><p>James turns up.</p><p>“Hi, I’m James Olson,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out. Lena politely shakes it.</p><p>“Lena Luthor.”</p><p>“Lena Luthor?” He parrots, matching her forced smile. “Inventor of the Books Superstore, enemy of the mid-list novel, Destroyer of City Books. Tell me something, how do you sleep at night?”</p><p>Just as Lena opens her mouth to reply, Andrea Rojas floats in and announces, “Oh! A wonderful over-the-counter drug called Ultrassom. Don’t take the entire thing, just half and you will wake up without the slightest hangover.” With a dazzling smile, Andrea offers her hand to James. “You’re James Olson, aren’t you? Your last piece in the Tribune, the one about Joseph Bologne, was absolutely brilliant. Andrea Rojas, Rojas Books.” She turns to Lena. “Lena, this man is the greatest living expert on Julian Assange and Edward Snowden.”</p><p>“And this is Kara Danvers,” Lena offers with that impossibly, fake smile. Kara glares at her.</p><p>“You liked my piece!” James is blown away at the compliment. He eats up anything that strokes his ego. “I’m flattered. You know I write these things and you think someone is going to mention them and weeks go by and the phone doesn’t ring. And, oh, you must think- I’m a fraud.”</p><p>“You know what’s always fascinated me about Julian and Edward is how tired they look.” Everyone falls silent at the observation, but Andrea doesn’t skip a beat. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Have you ever considered writing a book?”</p><p>Kara felt like her and Lena had slipped into some sort of ironic dimension. Here they were, enemies in commerce with heated stares exchanged while their significant others are eating each other up. Flirting, to be exact. James didn't seem to notice Kara standing there anymore. Nor does Andrea take any mind to her own date.</p><p>Lena’s eyes are locked on her, silently reading her turmoil, probably to gloat later. Kara looks down Lena’s body. She purses her lips, clenching her jaw as her anger keeps boiling over. Lena had the audacity to roll her eyes and leave her there with James and Andrea, who are still going on about James’s work and how Andrea wanted to have coffee with him some time soon.</p><p>Kara watches Lena throw a whole plate of untouched food in the trash. She wasted food. Who wastes food just like that? A horrible, awful person does. Lena looks back at her once more with a sharp glance before disappearing down the hallway.</p><p>Kara hands James her plate. He takes it automatically, not sparing her any mind as he keeps talking and swooning over Andrea Rojas.</p><p>Kara meant to go outside, get some fresh air, and perhaps scream her anger out in her jacket. But she doesn’t.</p><p>She goes down the hallway with energy vibrating through her limbs.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Lena rolls her eyes at them and goes to shove her plate of uneaten food in the trash. She can hear Kara gasp at her action as if she struck a puppy. Lena ignores her. She has to be cold in these situations because she’s a Luthor. She will always be seen as a mafia tycoon in the publication world, destroying all that is good and well in the world. She’s just tired of the catty looks and the unfriendly conversations. </p><p>She’s tired of Andrea’s shameless flirting with every potential client she sees, knowing that she screws at least a quarter of them for contract signatures. It doesn’t matter though. As shallow as Andrea is, Lena knows she is just as undesirable. It comes with the territory of the greedy rich and powerful. She only wishes that she could be different, warm and good and loved -like Kara Danvers. Or SuperGirl.</p><p>It doesn’t matter.</p><p>Lena goes down the hall, sparing one glance over her shoulder to see Kara eyeing her. Lena’s eye lashes flutter and her chest constricts at the sharp, heated gaze before turning away. She goes into the bathroom, eases the door a crack and sighs out her stress. A tube of lipstick is fished out of her blazer, of which she took off and placed on a robe hook. Lena leans over the sink, rolling on a fresh coat of La Prairie Luxe on. In the mirror, she sees the bathroom door open, and to her surprise, Kara Danvers walks in behind her.</p><p>“What do you want?” Lena keeps her tone steady, even as anxiety rises up to her throat. She sees Kara close the door behind her. It locks. Lena turns sharply on her heels, fully prepared to argue or fight if need be. </p><p>Kara surprises her by surging forward and pinning her against the sink. A sharp gasp clings in Lena’s lungs at the sheer strength of the maneuver. Her heart pounds like a drum and Kara’s bright, baby blue eyes stare back at her. Dark, angry and full of lust. A shiver shoots up Lena’s spine when Kara moves. Her hands find the hem of Lena’s skirt. A hard yank pulls the fabric up over her thighs, drawing another sharp gasp from Lena’s mouth. </p><p>There are no words, none. Just the sounds of heavy breathing, popping of lace, and Lena’s calves rattling the sink cabinet. They don’t kiss, but their noses brush and Lena is sucking in Kara’s hot breath against her mouth. </p><p>Lena’s hips cant up with a whimper. She spreads her legs open and willing to Kara’s advances, letting out a long, low moan at the stabbing stretch. Lena’s knees buckles and her head rolls back, smacking against the mirror. Various items are knocked off the bathroom counter while trying to find a bearing. </p><p>The sound of a hairdryer crashing to the tile should have been startling, but Lena was too focused on the hard curl of two fingers inside her to even be phased. Kara’s teeth scrapes against her neck, biting and it was hot. <em> So hot. </em> Lena can’t remember when it was the last time she had sex like this.</p><p><em> Fuck... </em> </p><p>Lena whines and claws at Kara’s arms, feeling how strong and powerful they were. When Kara starts to thrust, Lena loses all sense of composure. It’s hard and painful and so, so <em> good </em>. She rolls her hips frantically, meeting Kara’s plunging fingers at every strike. Kara groans when Lena fists a hand in her golden hair and pulls. Her other hand scoops underneath Kara’s dress, pushing under the sodden fabric of her panties, finding her clit to roll her fingers on. </p><p>The broken moan against Lena’s neck is beautifully tragic. </p><p>They shouldn’t be doing this, but Lena can take the blame later. Right now she needed to come hard against the angry thrusting of Kara’s fingers. It's the least she can do for her, to give Kara some sense of control. She gets it. She understands how Kara must be feeling right now. Lena would be ashamed to admit that she was willing to be bent over a bathroom sink for a stranger. Perhaps, this is a way to punish herself for being Lena Luthor. Karma and all that.</p><p>Fire burns through Lena’s limbs as she climbs faster and faster to that peak. Her fingers flick and slide in desperation over Kara’s throbbing clit without dexterity given her current situation. Lena bites down on her assailant’s bottom lip when she comes with a muffled groan of ecstasy. Her pussy quivers and squeezes in greedily pulses around Kara’s fingers.</p><p>Lena sags back against the mirror and Kara doesn’t stop. Lena hisses to the push of a third finger and she feels so full, so stretched open to the point it was more pain than pleasure at first.</p><p>Kara groans against her neck and grinds against her fingers, which are pinned to Lena’s thigh in an awful pressure. Lena doesn’t protest. She doesn’t push Kara off or tell her to stop. Instead, she submits and wraps her loose leg around Kara’s waist, opening herself up to be used selfishly.</p><p>Kara pounds into her with a fury Lena’s never felt before. Her broken cries are silenced with a hand on her mouth. It didn’t take long for stars to burst behind her eyes. She comes screaming in the shield of Kara’s palm. Hot liquid spills from her core, flooding a mess all over the hem of Kara’s dress and down her legs. The sheer mess shocks both of them and Kara grunts and whimpers out her own orgasm from the pads of Lena’s fingers. </p><p>When it ends, Kara pulls out of her slowly. They stare at each other, fighting for air. Lena brings her wet fingers to her lips and moans to the taste left there, making a show of it. A switch happens. Kara stiffens with realization at what just had transpired. Her face flushes and she looks like she was going to say something but she doesn’t. Instead, she backs away, retches the door open and leaves. </p><p>There’s a sobering moment. A literal ‘fuck you’ on all accounts. Despite having her first orgasm in months, Lena felt horrible afterwards. Like Kara has peeled back how much of a shallow person she really is, leaving her exposed and sober. </p><p>It’s only fair, Lena reasons. But it still feels awful no matter how she tries to reason with herself. </p><p>
  <em> “Shit.” </em>
</p><p>The bathroom is a mess.</p><p>***</p><p>At the end of the night in Kara’s bedroom, her and James settle down into bed.</p><p>“I like Andrea Rojas,” He goes on. “She’s a very nice person.” Kara doesn’t answer him. James turns off the light. “She just needs educating, that’s all.” He’s silent for only a beat. “She’s hopelessly driven by money and power, but there’s hope for anyone that’s familiar with my work.” </p><p>Kara only hums. She turns away from him and lies there, eyes open. He keeps talking about Andrea, but it falls on deaf ears. She thinks about what she did. About what she did with Lena Luthor in Clark’s bathroom. Why? Why did she do that? Why did Lena go along with it?</p><p>She was angry, pent up and stressed. Kara doesn’t process her frustrations very well. This was by far, the worst thing she’s ever done in her anger. What makes it even worse, was the fact that Kara liked every second of it.</p><p>Lena’s little moans and breathy whimpers haunts her thoughts.</p><p>***</p><p>As Lena and Andrea get into bed, Hope is already snuggled up at the foot of it.</p><p>“That James Olson is so down-to-earth. I had no idea.”</p><p>Lena doesn’t respond. Andrea turns off the light.</p><p>“You read his stuff, you think he’s going to be so obscure.” A beat. “He’s always talking about the Illuminati and false flag operations, and I have no idea what it’s about, really.”</p><p>Lena gets out of the bed when Andrea rolls over to cuddle her. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“I’m not tired.” Lena sighs. “I can’t-” Andrea starts to snore, Lena’s shoulders sag. Hope follows her as she goes to her den, boots up her computer, and writes.</p><p>***</p><p><b> <em>NC152:</em> </b> <em> Do you ever feel you’ve become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora’s box of all the secret hateful parts has sprung open. The arrogance, spite, condescension, etc… Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them. “Hello, It’s  the Wicked Witch of the West.” You probably have no idea what I’m talking about. </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>SuperGirl:</em> </b> <em> I know what you mean and I’m completely jealous! What happens to me when I’m provoked is I get tongue-tied. My mind goes blank. I end up getting so angry that I just freak out. Then I spend all night tossing and turning trying to think of what I should have said. What I should have said was… Nothing. Nothing! Even now, days later. I still can’t figure it out. </em></p><p> </p><p><b> <em>NC152:</em> </b> <em> Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we’d both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows. Do you think we should meet? </em></p><p> </p><p>Kara gasps.</p><p>“Meet?” A rush of emotion floods through Kara’s body, making her toes tingle. The laptop slams shut and she’s frozen. “Omigod.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kara and Lena keep bumping into each other. Lena tries to be nice. Kara fights back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to meet. I love our relationship. There’s so much going on in the day-to-dayness of my life and there is something magical and thrilling about this island of cyberspace I have with you. So please don’t ask me again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Starbucks, Lena puts a tiny dash of cream in her coffee at the sugar counter when Kara walks in. She pretends she never saw Kara there and makes a quick exit before she’s noticed. On another day, a little group of children dressed as Pilgrims walk down the street when Kara comes around the corner to buy herself a copy of the Tribune. She sees Lena at the newsstand, buying copies of all the newspapers: Tribune, Daily Planet, Wall Street Journal, etc. Kara turns and pretends to be staring at a wall until Lena completes her purchase and walks on.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry if that was too much to ask. I feel a deep connection with you and always wondered that maybe, perhaps one day, we can know each other for real. Even if that isn’t possible, we always have National City and this lovely little island. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I won’t pressure you to do anything you aren’t ready for. I promise to never ask you again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day before Thanksgiving, Kara goes to her local supermarket for some last minute items, as the rest of the city does. She pushes her cart through the aisles, picking up a can of yams, cranberry sauce, marshmallows, brown sugar and a bottle of wine to share at Eliza’s table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she browses a display of cheese, she sees Lena Luthor standing at the deli counter, waiting for her ticket to be called. Kara quietly curses, then ducks behind a giant wheel of smoked gouda. Her cart races and drifts down the bread aisle just as Lena turns in her direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why in the world would Lena Luthor shop for her own groceries was beyond her. Rich people don’t shop for groceries, she thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara panics. She takes care to snag the rest of the items on her list without Lena seeing her. The store is crowded, thankfully, and she manages to get to a checkout line without incident. Lena stands in another checkout line and Kara plucks a magazine off the shelf, hiding her face in its pages when she thinks Lena might look at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara was so occupied with avoiding Lena, that she completely misses the ‘Cash Only’ sign in the checkout line. When she gets to the counter and all her groceries are totaled, she offers the cashier her credit card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cash only.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cash only. No card.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry, uh…” she rustles through her purse in dismay. “I just have a credit card is that okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not okay!” The guy behind her points to the taped, laminated paper. “There’s a sign!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m very sorry.” Kara fidgets. “I never do this, but I’m asking you if you make an exception in this one case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has no cash!” He scoffs and a lady behind her gasps and echoes ‘she has no cash’. “Get in another line, lady!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a dollar!” Kara waves defeatedly. “One dollar, that’s all I have.” she turns to the grumpy check out girl and pleads. “Is there anything you can do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara bites her tongue and turns. Lena Luthor is standing there, giving her a soft, friendly smile. A fake smile. Kara is convinced that Lena doesn’t have a real smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Kara says through the bite of her teeth, then clears her throat. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need money?” Lena asks and Kara nearly loses it. She huffs and turns her blushing head away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t need any money, thank you very much!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cashier’s eyes boil at Kara as she commands, “Get in another line.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena turns to the cashier with a smile. “Hi, there.” She glances at the name tag. “Rose. That’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> name. This is Kara.” She gestures fondly to the blonde, then places a hand on her own chest. “And I’m Lena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m Henry!” Shouts the impatient man behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena gives him a bright smile. “Hello, Henry. Happy Holidays.” She gives Rose another smile and points at a console. “This is a credit card machine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose scoffs and rolls her eyes at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Thanksgiving,” Lena says warmly. Rose stares back with an intense silence. “This is where you say Happy Thanksgiving back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Thanksgiving back,” Rose answers with the enthusiasm of a cat in a bathhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena hums a chuckle through her throat and sighs. Kara’s credit card is plucked from her fingers, Lena smirks at the cashier. “Knock, knock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Rose a few beats to respond. “Who’s there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Orange.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Orange, who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena grins, wiggles her perfectly manicured eyebrows, then waves the card in the air with a little shimmy of her shoulders. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Orange</span>
  </em>
  <span> you gonna give us a break by zipping this card through the credit card machine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose’s lips threaten to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Lena tilts her head, beaming with victory. “Zip, zip?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose takes the card, unable to resist Lena’s charm, she’s smiling now. “There you go.” Kara couldn’t believe it. She’s a witch. Lena Luthor is a witch if Kara ever saw one. It’s like she cast some sort of magical spell on Rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cashier swipes the card, trying to suppress a giggle. “Rose?” Lena calls while the transaction finishes processing. “That’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> name.” Handing Kara a pen and the merchant’s copy of the receipt, Rose keeps eyeing Lena and her smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena turns to Kara. “You’re fine now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, yes.” Red faced, Kara nods sharply and turns to everyone still waiting in line. “I’m so sorry. Really.” Rose’s smile vanishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So sign already!” Henry swings his hands up. “I’d like to be home before the parade starts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scribbling her signature, Kara hands the paper and pen to Rose with a thank you. She scrambles to collect her groceries and finds that Lena already left without another word. Kara’s chest is filled with a soup of conflicting emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara feels awful. Lena just saved her ass back there, but still. Lena’s the reason her entire world is crashing. The Luthors have slayed many ma and pop businesses, smashing out their tiny but incredibly significant impact on their local communities. Entire families lost everything because of them. Because of Lena. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanksgiving comes and goes. Before anyone can blink, Christmas starts to arrive. Kara spends Hanukkah with Alex and Eliza, lighting candles every night on the menorah. She also goes to a Christmas party with James and his friends. They gather and sing around the piano, of which Kara pretends to enjoy for company’s sake. The holidays aren’t as magical as they used to be when she and Alex were younger and, of course, her parents were still alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> It's coming on Christmas. They're cutting down trees. Do you know that Joni Mitchell song? I wish I had a river I could skate away on... Such a sad song. And not really about Christmas at all. But I was thinking about it tonight as I was decorating my Christmas tree. Unwrapping funky ornaments made of Popsicle sticks and missing my parents so much I almost couldn't breathe. I always miss them the most at Christmas. But somehow it is worse this year since I need some advice from them. I need my mother to make me some cocoa and tell me that everything that's going badly in my life will sort itself out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><b><em>NC152:</em></b> <em><span>What kind of advice do you need? Can I help?</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Kara sits in her bed, not ready to get up and face the morning. She reads the two lined email. Her friend is so sweet and kind and it almost makes her want to cry. She starts to type a reply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you help? I wish you could help. I wish…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bing interrupts Kara’s typing with a popup window in her email. An instant message from NC152 has her heart leap up in her throat.</span>
</p><p><b><em>NC152:</em></b> <em><span>I had a feeling that you’d be online right about now.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>Mouth open, Kara is frozen and more messages pop up.</span>
</p><p><b><em>NC152:</em></b> <em><span>Hi. I can give you advice. I’m great at advice.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“Uh, oh…” Kara chews on her lip nervously and types her reply.</span>
</p><p><b><em>SuperGirl:</em></b> <em><span>If only you could help.</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lena, on the other side, groans with worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC521:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Is it about love?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please say no,” she prays.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> My business is in trouble.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” Lena smirks and daintily types a reply with confidence. “Well then…”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> I’m a brilliant business woman. It’s what I do best. What’s your business?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kara chuckles and shakes her head. “Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> No specifics, remember?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Okay. Well, minus the specifics, it’s hard to help except to say “Go to the mattresses.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kara winces at the screen. “Go to the mattresses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> What does that mean?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> It’s from the Godfather.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Supergirl: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Never seen it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lena scoffs in shock. “What?” She huffs. “Uh, hello?” She shakes her head with a laugh and moves on. She isn't surprised though. Supergirl is the softest of cookies. Of course she’s never seen a rated-R mafia film. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> It means to go to war. It’s not personal, it’s business.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Again, it’s NOT personal. It’s business.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Recite that to yourself every time you feel like you're losing your nerve.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> I know you worry about being brave. Don’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> This is your chance. Fight! Fight to the death.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kara takes NC152’s advice to the heart. So she does fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She goes to James and asks him to write an article in support of the shop. Then she asks Cat Grant to help her with publicity. Cat gets the Channel 2 news to show up and they ask all sorts of questions about the store’s history, her parents and what how the shop has been serving the neighborhood for over forty years. She even talks about Lena Luthor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t before long that people were moved by Kara’s valor. Protests gather in front of Luthor Books with picket signs and rhythmic chants. Kara leads a rally in the streets, screaming into a microphone with news cameras pointing at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want the Westside to become a gigantic strip mall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” The crowd cries, throwing fists in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to get off the subway at 72nd and Solitude and not even know that you're in National City?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we save the Shop Around the Corner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was moving and it gives Kara a small glimmer of hope that perhaps things will turn out okay. The people of National City love her and her story. They talk about on the news and on the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena and Sam are at the gym, running on the treadmills. Well, Lena is running. Sam is walking on a high incline. The two of them are staring at the televisions mounted on the wall above them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We're here in front of The Shop Around the Corner, the famous West Side children's bookstore now on the verge of having to close its doors, because the big bad wolf, Luthor Books has opened only a few hundred feet away, wooing customers with its sharp discounts and designer coffee.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara Davners shows up on the screen looking stern and confident. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>They have to have discounts and lattes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she tells the reporter. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Because their workers have never read a book.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The nerve of that woman.” Sweat drips off of Lena’s angry face. “You know, she’s not as nice as she is on T.V.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You met her?” Sam turns her head, watching her boss up the pace, running faster, harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OOooh, yeah!” Lena growls and pants along. “She’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pill</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam hums, turning back to the television. “I bet she’s not as hot on TV either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena laughs and gasps. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” Her sneakers clunk noisily over the tread. “She’s got a nice, sweet face that will look amazing between my thighs. But she’s a pill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam barks out a laugh. “So you don’t feel bad about sending her ass to the projects with food stamps?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not personal.” Lena huffs, stealing her gaze forward. “It’s business.” Of course, she knows that’s not entirely the case. These are just the things Lena lies to herself about to make her job easier. Thick skin is required in the cut-throat world of business. The news report switches to Lena’s interview earlier that morning. “Ah! Here we go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I sell cheap books</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Lena says on the screen. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>So sue me. The truth is-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Then the video cuts off, switching back to the reporter’s speil. Lena’s hand slams the ‘stop’ button on the treadmill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” Sam asks. “That’s all you said?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! That’s not all I said!” She’s furious. “I can’t believe those bastards!” The treadmill restarts at a slower stride. “I said we were great! With our discounts, families can afford more books in the long run. I said we were a great place where you can sit and read for hours without being bothered. That we had over 15,000 titles to choose from. I showed them the National City Writers section! I said we were a goddamn piazza!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piazza?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where people could mingle in this city,” Lena explains. “I was eloquent!” A beat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s inevitable,” Sam tries to console her. “People just want to turn her into the Joan of Arc. And you as Ghengis Khan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena steps off the treadmill, hunching over and sucking in air. “Well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the company, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the television, Kara Davners continues with a less than pleasant tone of voice, “I</span>
  <em>
    <span> have met Lena Luthor. And I heard her compare her store to the Price Club and the books in it to tubs of personal lubricant.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Lena’s face warms, ringing in her ears. She growls and increases the pace on the treadmill until she’s sprinting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena doesn’t answer. She just keeps running, glaring at Kara’s golden glowing face on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two weeks of hard work goes by and Kara can see the disdain in Eliza’s face while looking at the numbers. “Don't tell me.” Kara already knows the answer. “Not the slightest difference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliza frowns, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can that be?” She asks solemnly, feeling utterly defeated. “All this publicity and not one bit of difference? Eliza, what am I going to do? What would Mom have done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let's ask her.” Eliza picks up a framed picture. “Alura, what should we do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Eliza…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh.” The older woman turns her ear to the photo. “She has no idea.” She puts the frame back down. “But she thinks the window display is lovely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kara sighs and Eliza gives her a big, warm hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, honey,” Eliza tells her, softly palming Kara’s face with motherly affection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The meeting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Supergirl:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> I need help. Do you still want to meet me? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> I would love to meet you. Where? When?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm only staying 10 minutes.” Lena and Sam are walking down the street, wrapped up in winter coats against the nip of the night. “I'll say hello, have a cup of coffee and then I'll split.” Lena continues on, bouncing nervously with each step. “Hope she doesn't have a squeaky voice like the mice in Cinderella. Why am I doing this?” Lena stops and turns to Sam, panicking. “Why am I compelled to meet her? Why?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena. Relax.” Sam grips her by the shoulders and leads her to take a deep breath. “You're just taking it to the next level,” she explains. Lena absorbs every ounce of advice Sam gives her with wide eyes and a racing heart. “I always take a relationship to the next level. If that works out, I take it to the next level after that. Till I reach that level where it becomes absolutely necessary for me to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” Lena turns away. Now that she thinks about it, Sam is probably not the best person to get relationship advice from. Out of the six years Lena has known her, Sam has never even mentioned her love life at all. Lena doesn’t even know what Sam’s sexual orientation is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not staying long anyways,” she says, then winces. “I already said that, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop at the destination. A quiet little cafe. “Oh, Caf Lalo. Damn, we got here fast, didn’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight o’clock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lena’s nerves are about to burst at the seams. “Sam?” Her body swivels. Clutching onto Sam’s jacket like a lifeline, Lena looks at her friend dead serious. “This woman is the most adorable creature I've ever been in contact with.” She fists Sam’s coat hard enough to pop a seam. “If she turns out even to be as good-looking as a</span>
  <em>
    <span> mailbox</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I'd be crazy not to turn my life upside down and </span>
  <em>
    <span>marry her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She could be a dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, good luck.” Sam pats Lena on the head and tries to pry her off. Lena doesn’t let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam…” Lena is pleading now. “Would you go look for me? Just go look through the window and check her out.” Sam scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright.” Lena curls over in gratitude, whispering ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>thankyou thankyou</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ as Sam finally wretches free from her grasp. “You’re so pathetic. I’ve never seen you like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena shakes with anticipation over the railing in front of the cafe. Sam climbs the steps in a sluggish pace, stops and looks through the glass of the door. “All right.. Hmmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you see her?” Lena impatiently asks, gripping onto the bars of the railing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wait. Yeah. Mmm!” Sam grins, fingering her chin. “I see a fine piece of ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew it!” Lena sighs with relief and laughs, palming her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No book though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena gawks at the bad joke. “I’m going to kill you!” Sam laughs at her and waves apologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright.” She tilts to look further in the cafe. “Wait a minute. Oh, I see a book with a rose. So this has to be her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?!” Lena’s begging, nearly screaming. “What does she look like?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t see, the waiter’s blocking.” Lena buckles over with a shriek. The anticipation is killing her. “Hold on, he’s moving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena’s head snaps up. Sam winces, looking confused, then her eyebrows rise higher than a skyscraper. “Well? Can you see her?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam is speechless. Lena’s patience is gone. “Sam!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I see her and uh…” She lets out a long push of breath through her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turns to her, giving her an odd look. “And she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty.” Her hands sink into her jacket pocket. She rocks on her heels and nods. “Smokin’!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Lena melts with relief. “Oh, yes. I knew it! I knew she would be pretty, I knew it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what?” Sam is chewing on her bottom lip. “She kinda has the same coloring as that… Kara Danvers girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena tilts her head, arching a brow. “Kara Danvers of the little bookstore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Sam provides. “You thought she was attractive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, why not?” Lena bobbles her head in confusion. “But who cares about Kara Danvers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weeelll,” Sam winces and swivels from side to side. “If you don’t like Kara Danvers then I’m gonna tell you right now.” She descends the back down the steps. “You’re not going to like this girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taken back by the comment, Lena scoffs. “Why the hell not?!” Sam sucks in a hiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kara Danvers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A silent pause follows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena strides past Sam, up the steps and to the door. She looks inside, past the counter to the middle of the cafe. Sure enough, Kara Danvers is there with a book and a rose, nervously fiddling with their placement on the table. Lena’s heart stutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it is Kara Danvers. It takes a few seconds for that to sink in. For a moment, Lena’s chest swells with emotion, with hope. But then her brain kicks in. She turns away from the door and descends back down the steps in a silent melocany.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing to do?” Sam asks as Lena passes by her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just going to let her sit there all night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena nods, solemnly. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she wrote all those letters to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara waits. She waits with hitched breathes and twisting fingers. Any moment now, the person who she’s been swooning in fantasies over will be walking in through that door. All these months of back and forth messages of sweet longing and delightful sharing had led up to this point. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t believe I’m doing this…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her heart races every time the door chimes, only to sink with disappointment at the patrons who trickle in and out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man approaches her, taking hold of the chair across the table. “Excuse me, do you mind if I borrow this chair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Kara shoots up and pulls the chair back. “Yes, I do mind. Sorry, I’m expecting someone.” The man groans and leaves defeatedly to scope out another. Kara sighs and nervously repositions the book and the rose on top several times. She’s late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter comes over. “Would you like more tea, miss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.” He takes her empty mug away and scoops up a mountain of empty sugar packets off the table. When he moves away, Kara sighs a deep breath again, trying to center her nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door chimes and Kara’s breath stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena Luthor has just walked in through the door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, no.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Shoot,” Kara mutters with panic. She scoops up the book and opens it, sinking down deep in her chair so she can hide her face behind the cover. Lena smiles at the barista and ganders about in a casual way, exploring. Kara starts sweating with each step Lena takes further in the dining area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Kara hears. “Kara Danvers. What a coincidence.” Kara refuses to look at her, until Lena’s hand pulls the chair back. “Mind if I sit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do mind!” Kara lowers the book. “I’m expecting someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena sits anyways, with a gentle sigh and a smile. “Oh?” She eyes Kara’s book. “Pride and Prejudice. I didn’t know you were a Jane Austen fan. Not that it’s a surprise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara clicks her tongue and sighs. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Lena smiles and rests an elbow on the table, looking at Kara with a soft gaze. “I bet you read it every year. I bet you love Mr. Darcy, and your sentimental heart beats wildly at the thought that he and whatever her name is are really, honestly and truly going to end up together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you please leave?” Kara is vibrating. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll leave when your friend gets here,” Lena says. The waiter approaches the table and greets her. “Flat white, oat milk, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara scoffs at Lena’s stubbornness. Lena gazes at her cell phone. “Man, he’s late huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara clears her throat as her unease turns into anger. “For your information,” she states. “Elizabeth Bennet is the heroine of Pride and Prejudice and is one of the most complex characters ever written.” Sharply, she adds, “Not that you would know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a matter of fact, I’ve read it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena thanks the waiter as she’s served and then takes a delicate sip of the foam. “I’d think you’d discover a lot of things, if you really knew me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara doesn’t skip a beat. “If I really knew you, I know what I would find. That, instead of a brain, a cash register, instead of a heart, a bottom line.” Kara’s shocked at her own words. She gapes at Lena and her perfect jaw-line with the epiphany. “I just had a breakthrough. And I have you to thank for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Lena asks, looking off put and it encourages Kara further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the first time in my life, when confronted with a horrible, insensitive person I actually knew what I wanted to say and I said it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena crosses her long legs and scratches her throat audibly. “You have a gift for it. It was a perfect mix of fine poetry and meanness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meanness?” Kara stews. “Let me tell you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t misunderstand me,” Lena interrupts. “I was paying you a compliment.” Her green eyes drift down to the flower on the table. Kara tries to grab for it, but Lena scoops it up carefully by the stem and takes a soft sniff of the petals. “Hmm.. A red rose, no wait.” She arches a brow. “A crimson rose, tucked into the pages. Something you read about, no doubt. One of those books with a lady in a nightgown on the cover about to throw herself off a cliff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a joke to you isn’t it? Everything is a joke to you.” Kara swipes the rose from Lena’s hand and pleads earnestly. “Please, leave. I beg of you, just leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena agrees to Kara’s relief. She rises from her chair and takes her drink with her. However, she only leaves Kara’s table and sits at the table directly behind her. Their backs are inches apart. The door chimes open and Kara stiffens. A sigh leaves her as an elderly couple strolls in. She takes out her handkerchief and blops the soft pink lipstick on her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what that handkerchief reminds me of?” Kara groans at Lena’s persistence to torture her. “The first day we met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first day you lied to me,” Kara shoots back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t lie to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought that Lex stuff was so charming. L-E-X. And</span>
  <em>
    <span> Lena</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Kara twists in her chair to leer at her, finding Lena in a similar seated position. “Just call me Lena?” She huffs and turns back away. “As if you were one of those stupid 22 year old girls with no last name. ‘Hi, I’m Kimberly. Hi, I’m Jessica.’ What’s wrong with them? Don’t they know that they're supposed to have last names? It’s like they’re a whole generation of cocktail waitresses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena turns away as well, nursing her caffeinated oat milk. “I’m not a stupid 22 year old girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when I said the thing about the Price Club and the vats of personal lubricant, that wasn’t what I meant either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you poor, sad multimillionaire. I feel so sorry for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door chimes again. Lena turns to look to see a middle-aged man with a top hat. “I’m going to guess that’s not him either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a woman, I’m meeting,” Kara corrects her. She doesn’t know why she’s telling Lena the details. Her mouth won’t stop. “It just so happens that I like women just as well… if you forgot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena chuckles warmly behind her. And to further antagonize Kara, Lena had the audacity to get up and sit right in front of her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As was my surprise at Clark’s party.” She quirks her perfect head and smirks dangerously. “Sweet, little Kara Danvers whose all about plumerias and handkerchiefs and twirling? I would never have guessed that you were a top.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara blushes fiercely. “Th-that was…” She stutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was <em>really</em> something,” Lena finishes for her, leaning in and drooping her eyes seductively. “You look like you could blow off some steam again. We can go to the bathroom right now, if you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was a</span>
  <em>
    <span> one</span>
  </em>
  <span> time thing,” Kara growled under her breath, staring shame into the steaming mug of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you be mean to her, too?” Lena asks with a tilt of her head. “Will you start out as sweet as sugar candy and then suddenly, miraculously, like a bolt out of the blue, find that sharp little tongue of yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I won’t!” Kara bristles, finding the courage to steel her gaze against Lena’s stone-like face. “Because the woman who is coming here tonight is completely unlike you. The woman who is coming here is kind and funny. She has the most wonderful sense of humor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she’s not here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she’s not here then she has a good reason, because she doesn’t have a single cruel or careless bone in her body. I can’t expect you to know anything about a person like that. You, Lena Luthor, are nothing but a suit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as those words left Kara’s mouth, she regretted it immediately. She sees a sliver of emotional pain flash in Lena’s eyes until she masks herself protectively with a stern, calculating gaze. A sigh pushes out of her red, soft looking lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess that’s my cue,” Lena rises from the chair, slips a crisp twenty on the table to pay for their drinks plus the tip, gathers her coat and then leaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>NC152 never shows up to meet her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finally goes home after two hours of waiting when the cafe closes. Disappointment and heartache riddles every inch of her to find her inbox empty. No word, no excuse, nothing. She goes to bed alone without bothering to take her shoes off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lamp is turned off, leaving Kara in the dark to wonder about what could have happened. While she was upset over being stood up, Kara was more distraught over how she treated Lena. It wasn’t like Kara to be mean to anyone, yet alone corner them in a bathroom. She thinks about that a lot, actually. About how something dark and deep awoken inside her from the stress of her business going under. About how she unleashed that selfishness on someone who was just doing her job as best as she could as taught by her family patriarch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Kara was being too harsh on her. But her entire world is crashing down because of Lena and Kara has no idea how to process it. The fact that everything her parents left to her is threatening to disappear. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Life goes on, but it constantly changes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It was a trainwreck,” Lena tells Sam, wandering around the store with no attention to the business that day. “She was insulting, provocative and the only thing pleasant about her was the way her hair fell across her cheek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But underneath that disagreeable exterior she could be-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A real bitch,” Lena finishes for her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew that she didn’t like you,” Sam points out. “Why did you go in? I thought you weren’t going to meet with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena sighs and turns to face her. “I was hoping she’ll see past our little business conflict. We had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Clark Kent’s publication party…” She clears her throat and leans in to whisper. “In the bathroom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s mouth falls open. “You two screwed in Clark Kent’s bathroom?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena hushes her, shifting her eyes around the customers who are walking by them. She spins around and starts to walk away, knowing Sam would tail her. “It was nothing. Meaningless. She was angry and hot and I let her do what she wanted."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you never told me until now!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not talk about it. I’m going back to the office. You probably have work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really.” Sam extends her arms out to the easy flow of the store. “This place is a well oiled machine, my friend!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara sets her bag down on the sidewalk to fish out her keys, keeping a hold of the umbrella. She unlocks the gate and slides it up. “She never showed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She stood you up?” Alex gasps in shock. They bustle into the shop to get out of the dreadful weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t characterize it that way.” Kara sighs and begins her pre-opening duties. “I think something happened. Something terrible and unexpected that made it impossible for her to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winn walks in through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” He asks her, hoping for good news. Kara deflates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t able to make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gapes at her. “She stood you up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara tsks and shakes her head. “What could have happened?” Winn looks suddenly stricken for her. “What did happen? Oh, what if she did show up, took one look at me and left?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Impossible!” Alex declares. “You’re lesbian jailbait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe there was a subway accident,” Kara considers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A train trapped underground with her inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And no phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winn continues to look stricken, shaking his head. “What?” Kara asks him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts a copy of the Planet on the counter and points to the headline: COPS FIND WOMAN’S BODY IN ALLEY.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dead silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be…” Winn shakes. “They found the victim just two blocks from the cafe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that explains it,” Alex says. “She’s dead. That’s why she didn’t call.” She turns to Kara. “You are so lucky. That could have been you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you crazy?” Kara swats at her arm. “No, that can’t be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long did you sit there all alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long.” Kara shrugs. “Lena Luthor came in-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena Luthor?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kara closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause. They look around. There’s no one in the store and nothing to do. “There must be something to do. There’s always something to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell chimes and they all look excitedly to see who it is. But it’s Eliza. Immediately, she looks at Kara and asks, “Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She got murdered,” Winn explains, holding the paper up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliza’s eyes widened in shock. “She stood you up?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara groans, smashing her head on the counter in humiliation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve been thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you weren’t there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As I waited, someone else showed up, a person who has made my professional life a misery, and an amazing thing happened. I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say. And, of course, I felt terrible. Just like you said I would.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was cruel and I’m never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe that what I said mattered to this person - to her, I’m just a bug to be crushed. But what if it did? No matter what she has done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyways, you are my dear friend, and I so wanted to talk to you. I hope you are okay. I hope you have a good reason for not being there last night, but if you don’t, and if we never really connect again, I just want to tell you how much it has meant to me to know you were there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lena sits there at her desk for a second in a moment of intense ambivalence. She smashes a key and signs off. Then she leaves her office. The computer sits there, waiting. The refrigerator door opens and closes. Lena passes the den without looking in it. Hope merrily pants behind her, clicking her claws on the hardwood floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, Lena comes back into the room and stares at the computer. She heads for the bedroom and Hope follows. Then she changes her mind and goes back to the den, pauses, then goes into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fridge door opens. It closes. Hope’s feet clips along the wood floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena rushes into the den and sits at the computer, signs back in and starts to type.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m in Metropolis…</span>
  </em>
  <span> “No.” The delete button is mashed, creating a blank slate.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was stuck in a meeting, which I couldn’t get out of, and there was no phone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena huffs and glances at Hope, who tilts her head in judgement. She keeps typing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The electricity gave out in the building and we were trapped on the 18th floor and the telephone system blew too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops and looks at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amazingly enough…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She sits, staring at the words on the screen then groans. She deleted the entire thing impatiently and types honestly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I WAS there and you ripped me apart, you sexy, blonde piece of sweet and sour candy…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck…” Lena takes a breath and deletes that too. She closes her eyes and counts the number of times her lungs expand and contract.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She types. For real this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear friend,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can not tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I’m absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says things they regret when they are worried or stressed. You were expecting someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday, I’ll explain everything. In the meantime, I’m still here. Talk to me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she say anything about wanting to meet you again?” Alex and Kara are riding up an elevator, each holding a plate of home-baked goods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not really. Listen, it doesn't matter. We'll just be like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell. We'll write letters our whole lives.” Alex shakes her head at the answer. It is what it is, though. The elevator dings merrily and the doors slid open. Inside is a grand archway, decorated with fine pieces of art and flower arrangements. A butler leads the two of them deeper, up a set of stairs and into a beautiful tea room where Cat Grant is seated at a table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the scones,” Cat palms her own curly updo as Alex and Kara take their seats at the table. “They look lovely.” Cat Grant always invites Kara and Alex for tea once in a while for good company. They chat about Cat’s life, mostly, and how mystical her younger adventures were. They even get the privilege to look through some old, black and white photographs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where was this one taken?” Kara asks with a smile. In the photo, Cat is dressed in a flowing skirt and a large sunhat, leaning over a scooter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Havana,” she replies and lifts her tea cup to her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you fell madly in love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft hum leaves the mature woman’s throat. She sets the tea cup back onto it’s matching saucer with a soft clink. “So what have you decided to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close.” Kara sighs and nods. “We're going to close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Closing the store is the bravest thing to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are such a liar,” Kara says with a defeated laugh. “But thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are daring to imagine that you could have a different life! I know it doesn't feel like that. You feel like a big, fat failure now. But you're not. You are marching into the unknown, armed with…” Cat pauses with thought, staring at her own self portrait hanging on the wall behind Alex’s head. “...nothing.” A grin rises on Cat’s face and she shrugs. “Have a sandwich.” The butler suddenly appears, offering a platter of finger sandwiches stuffed with cucumbers and cheese.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, not nothing.” Kara takes at least six. “I have a little money saved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you need more, ask me. I'm very rich. And I am also going to start my own magazine with my book’s publication advance.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Cat, that’s fantastic!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat grins again, raising her chin to the praise. “I suppose you want me to tell you who it was I fell madly in love with. But I'm not going to tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex huffs at the tease. “Come on, who was it? Tell us!” But Cat loves staying mysterious, she just hums and shrugs, taking sips of more Earl Grey. “Uch. That's so mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But so romantic,” Kara sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn't meant to be,” the author says. “He ran Cuba.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cuba?” Alex and Kara parrots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The country,” Cat waves her hand. “He ran it. It was his job. And then he died. Just as well. Milk or lemon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She fell in love with Fidel Castro,” James announces, riding the escalator down to the theater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't say that,” Kara scolds. “We don't know that for sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who else could it have been? It was around 1980. I can't believe this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It happened in Cuba,” Kara points out as they get their tickets and popcorn. “People do stupid things in foreign countries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure!” James shuffles behind her to their seats in the theater. “They buy leather jackets for much more than they're worth. But they don't fall in love with communist dictators.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cat is a very special person to me,” she whispers harshly from her seat. “She is a superhero for independent women everywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She's out of her mind.” James shifts in his seat, clearly flustered. “I could never be with anybody who doesn't take politics as seriously as I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A silent pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something to tell you, James.” Kara leans in closer. “I didn't vote.” He turns to her in dead silence, but she keeps her eyes on the screen where a giant hotdog is singing about concession stand deals. “In the last mayoral election. I went to get a manicure. And forgot to vote.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when do you get manicures?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you could never be with a woman who got manicures?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's okay. I forgive you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thoughtful silence goes by. Then Kara rises from her seat, whispering apologizes as she slides past the other seated movie-goers in the row. James raises his hands in confusion, then follows her out of the theater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, this has been a big week,” James confides to her out on the sidewalk. “You're closing the store.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it's not that. Really, it's not… it’s just-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know.” James rubs his neck and sighs. “That was terrible of me. Jumping all over you when I'm the one... I don't even know how to say this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Kara asks, confused. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now they're inside a bistro. James is leaned over the table with Kara’s hands softly clutched in his. “You're a wonderful person, Kara,” he tells her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I'm so honored that you'd want to be with me, because you wouldn't be with anyone who wasn't truly worthy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel exactly the same way,” Kara says and James groans, releasing her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don't say that. That makes it worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kara looks at him, then she gets it. “You don't love me.” James stares at her with concern and quietly shakes his head. A laugh leaves Kara. she’s smiling. “Me either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don't love me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we're so right for each other!” James exclaims, clearly relieved at the mutual feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know!” Kara gives a breathless laugh. “Well, is there someone else? Oh!” Kara snaps her fingers. “That media lawyer! Lucy? Clark’s girlfriend’s sister. You two were practically all over each other on that television special a couple of weeks ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, uh… noticed that, huh?” James shrank with a look of guilt. “I’m really sorry, I should have told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t she a Republican?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can't help myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Kara erupts in laughter, James joins her with a sigh of relief. Kara takes a drink out of the glass of white wine in front of her. “I’m glad you told me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” James asks. “Is there someone else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara thought to confess her own weak moment at Clark’s house with Lena. But there was no point, James wouldn’t understand. What happened with Lena is nothing compared to what she had with NC152.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, but…” Kara pauses in thought. “But there is a dream of someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, James packs his things from Kara’s apartment. He hauls three overflowing boxes into a cab and gets in the back with his typewriter riding in his lap. And that was it. They were no longer a couple. Kara has never had a smoother break up. It was a relief, but also just as sad to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During the final week of being open, Kara walks a couple of blocks down and crosses the street after work. In the window of Luthor Books she sees an advertisement for Cat Grant’s autobiography and a book signing to commence when it’s published. It hurts seeing the display, but she’s slowly coming to terms with everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara goes inside Luthor Books, taking in the big white walls and carefully engineered lighting. It’s busy. People are browsing the shelves, lining up at the registers and conversing over coffee. She’s so distracted by the expanse and modernism of the store, that she misses Lena Luthor looking at her from the customer service desk where Sam is going over numbers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara climbs the black staircase that coils up a dinosaur skeleton replica, leading to the Young Reader’s section. There she finds shoppers both young and old thumbing through books. A low, wide table sits in the middle with puzzles and toys being used by a few children. Kara sits at the far end in a little chair that is way too small for her. She tilts her head up at the beauty of the design and sighs deeply with a hollow ache in her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me.” A shopper approaches a sales floor attendant behind her. “Do you have the shoe books?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoe books?” The young employee echoes, then utters, “Uh, what’s the author’s name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” The customer flaps her arms defeatedly. “A friend told me that my daughter needs to read the Shoe Books, so here I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Noel Streatfeild,” Kara says, turning in her seat. “Noel Streatfeild wrote Ballet Shoes and Skating Shoes and Theatre Shoes and Dancing Shoes and…” Kara’s voice cracks as she tries not to cry. “I'd start with Ballet Shoes first.” She sniffles. “It's my favorite. Although Skating Shoes is completely wonderful. But it's out of print.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Streatfeild.” The employee takes out a pad of paper and a pen. “How do you spell that?” Kara spells it out for him and the customer looks at her with softness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena lets out a quiet sigh, her brow furrowed and her shoulders tense while eavesdropping. She wants to step out from behind the giant globe at the top of the staircase and say something to Kara. But she can’t. She can’t bring her more hurt that she already had. Reluctantly, Lena turns and descends back down the steps and goes to gather her things and meet Andrea for dinner at one of their usual spots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>During the meal, Lena let’s Andrea’s one-sided conversation drift in the background with the jazz music whilst poking at the fish on her plate. She can’t stop thinking about her. About Kara. At how miserable Lena has made her both as a Luthor and as NC152. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared so much together over those emails, opening wounds and healing each other with kind words and emotional support. Lena has never had that from anyone in her life. How cruel life turned out to be now that karma showed its face in the most ironic, tragic way. The single person that Lena can confide with hates her in real life. And there is nothing Lena can do to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena knows the damage that she and her family business does on a regular basis. She’s not ignorant to the collateral, just numb to it like Lex and Lillian were. Her brain repeats the phrase over and over, convincingly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not personal, it’s business.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If it’s not personal then why does it feel like a gnarly root is festering in her stomach?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kara Danvers. It was like her name was in the air,” Andrea mentions, grabbing Lena’s attention for the first time that evening. They are walking into the apartment building, striding through the lobby to return to the penthouse floor. “Everyone was talking about her today. Kara Danvers and her situation. And I was thinking that she'd make a great children's book editor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think that?” Lena asks, trying to sound indifference. Trying to convince Andrea (and maybe herself) that she doesn’t care about Kara or what anyone thought of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she knows everything. She has flawless taste. She's famous for it. Salesmen swear by her. If she likes the book, it sells. Period.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena knows where this was going. “You're going to offer her a job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else has she got to do? Now that she's destitute. Thanks to you.” That stings. Lena keeps her face drained from emotion. Kara can’t work for Andrea. She can’t. It would mean that Lena would run into her more than she already does. It’s best to just stay away from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't see her working for you,” Lena tries. “She lacks the killer instinct. She's never fired anybody. Look at that little shop. Those people have been there forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Till recently, when they all lost their jobs. Thanks to you. Hold the elevator!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Rojas. Miss Luthor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Hello, Charlie,” Lena greets the elevator operator politely while slipping inside. There is another passenger. One of Lena’s neighbors that she never took the time to get to know. She’s a short, blonde middle aged woman with a fluffy, tiny dog always tucked in her purse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love how you've forgotten you had any role in her current situation,” Andrea continues on, not taking any mind to the other two people in the elevator. “It's so obtuse. It's so insensitive. Reminds me of someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really?” Lena’s jaw clenches. “Who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me.” Andrea lets out a maniacal laugh. A clunking screech pierces everyone’s ears and the elevator jerks unpleasantly. It stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be stuck,” Charlie suggests. He approaches the panel and starts punching all the floor buttons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope this thing doesn’t plummet to the basement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can it do that?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Lena moves over to the panel and unhooks the emergency phone, then sticks the receiver to her ear. “Hi, this is Lena Luthor. Who’s this? Juan. We are stuck in the elevator between the sixth and seventh floor. There’s four of us-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrea rips the receiver from Lena’s hand and screams into the mouthpiece. “And if you don’t get your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass</span>
  </em>
  <span> up here in two shakes-” Lena yanks the phone back, but Andrea keeps a hold on it and continues, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>...and get us the hell out of here!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone is finally pulled from Andrea’s hand and back to Lena’s ear. “Juan? Yeah, listen. Call the super and then 9-1-1.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause. “Yes, the fire department,” Lena muses in a pleasant, patient voice. “That’s right. Thank you very much.” She hangs up the phone and looks at Andrea, who is oblivious about her behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone should jump in the air,” Charlie suggests. Everyone gives him a confused stare. “We jump. The elevator thinks no one is here and so it opens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not how elevators work, but Lena goes along with it anyways to make Charlie feel better. “One, two, three. Jump!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They jump. The elevator shakes. Then nothing. Eventually, everyone takes a seat on the floor in a hunched circle. Andrea starts painting her nails. The dog lady just keeps petting her papion. Lena and Charlie stay still, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lady with the dog speaks. “If I ever get out of here, I’m gonna start speaking to my mama again. I wonder what she’s doing this very minute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I ever get out of here, I’m going to marry Veronica.” Charlie says with a twinkle in his eye. “I love her. I should marry her. I have no idea what’s been stopping me.” Lena looks at him with a silent melancholy. The way his eyes light up and the soft, honest curl of his mouth struck something within her. Lena blinks into focus when he pulls out his phone and shows her a photo of Veronica and him at the beach. They look so happy together. Warmth blossoms in Lena’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I ever get out of here, I’m getting my eyes lasered,” Andrea says while digging for something at the bottom of her purse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena leans her head back in deep thought. “If I ever get out of here…” Maybe she’ll take a long trip in her boat like she always wanted to. To actually see the world instead of conquering it. Or maybe-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are my tic-tacs?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Lena stares at Andrea in bewilderment. “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena has no idea, none. She has no idea what she’s doing with her life anymore. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to continue like this. She doesn’t want to be the cold-heartless suit that Kara sees. Ever since the moment in the cafe, Lena has been at sorts with herself. She closes her eyes and drifts into a fantasy where her life was more than espresso and stocks and innovation and emptiness. Where instead of a shallow, haphazard relationship with a selfishly conceded woman such as herself, Lena is wrapped up in the arms of a warm, caring and beautiful person that she truly loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire department comes and everyone is free to continue on with their lives. The dog lady calls her mother. Charlie proposes to Veronica. Andrea schedules a lasik appointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena writes to Kara.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>NC152:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I came home tonight and got into the elevator to go to my apartment. An hour later, I got out of the elevator then Hope and I moved out. Suddenly everything had become clear. It's a long story full of the personal details we avoid so carefully. Let me just say there was a man sitting in the elevator with me, who knew exactly what he wanted. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I found myself wishing I were as lucky as he.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Shop Around the Corner closes its doors for good. And as Kara takes the doorbell down, she can see her mother and father standing together in the empty shell of what was her entire life. Kara locks the door and rolls the gate down for the last time. The bell dingles in her hand to the steps she takes home reverently noting that it was the last time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SuperGirl:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they're saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all has happened. My store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store. In a week it will be something depressing like a Baby Gap. Soon we'll just be a memory. In fact, some foolish person will probably think it's a tribute to this city. The way it keeps changing on you, or the way you can never count on it. I know because that's the sort of thing I'd say. But the truth is… I'm heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died and my parents have died all over again. And no one can ever make it right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the gate, a sign reads: ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>After serving this neighborhood for 42 years, we are closing our doors for good. Thank you for being a part of our lives.’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple of weeks roll on and life goes on. Luthor Books remains the number one bookseller in National City and Lena leaves Sam to manage it fully. She spends her mornings taking Hope on long, thoughtful walks, her afternoons on the water, and her evenings rereading all the emails Kara and her ever exchanged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One evening when Lena was out walking with Hope, she stops at the entrance to the bay where a limousine is parked. The back door opens and Lex steps out. The trunk opens and in it lay a full set of luggage bags. He’s moving into his boat, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Lena approaches him. Lex sighs and shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena helps him carry his stuff inside the Lion II, which is tethered right next to the Lioness. Lex’s boat dwarves Lena’s, but she has always been more practical with certain things. Inside the Lion II, she pours two glasses of scotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you did pretty well,” Lena tells him. “At least you didn’t marry her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I stayed on this boat after… well Desiree, my first wife. And then Lana Lang, the CEO of the Isis foundation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lana, my first boss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Lex blinks then laughs. “Oh, yeah. She gave you that internship. That’s how I met her.” He takes a glass from Lena’s hand. “Then there was that research assistant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> research assistant. Eve Teschmacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours? No…” Lex thinks about it. “Really? Huh… Anyways. Then there was the doctor, Helen Bryce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who answered someone else’s house call if I’m not mistaken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like Ardora.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ardora ran off with someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The nanny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena laughs. She laughs and Lex chuckles with her. “That… is just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She sinks down on the loveseat across from him, crossing her legs. Lex deflates into a lax posture, slinging his arms over the cushions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t this beautiful, or what?” He gestures to the grand interior of the boat. “I’ll be living out of a suitcase for at least three weeks, with all the legal hassle over Junior and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not so bad.” Lena smiles and takes a drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just need to meet someone new.” Lex nods to himself. “That’s the easy part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, right,” Lena huffs. As if it was that easy. “A snap to find the one person in the world that fills your heart with joy.” Even though she meant it in sarcasm, Lex didn’t take it as much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be ridiculous. Have I ever been with anyone that fits that description?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena shrugs carelessly, and takes another sip of her scotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he asks, “Have you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That inquiry shocks her. Lena stares back at him, finding him serious. And in that moment, she thinks about the one and only person who had </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> fit that description. It happens so suddenly. Just as if Lena had been struck by a bolt of electricity, zapping away everything she tried to convince herself to believe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Overcome with an epiphany, Lena rises from her seat and sloshes the scotch in the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Lena!” Horrified, Lex rushes to the sink to stare at the spoiled booze. “I would have drank that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Lex. I have to go.” Lena slings on her coat. “I just realized something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He asks, but she’s already climbing up the steps to the deck, leaving him in a confused stupor. “What did you realize?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tweaking.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lena spends the next two months purchasing a new apartment in the upper west side of the city. When she and Hope settle in, she then shocks Lex and Lillian by retiring from Luthor Corp twenty years earlier than planned. She keeps her shares, however, and still consults with store managers and franchises on a regular basis. </p><p>Now, she spends her time and energy investing in smaller businesses, ones that have been around forever and ones that just don’t quite have enough capital to get started. She loves it. She loves the opportunity to give business owners hope instead of despair when she walks in the room now. For once in her life, Lena feels ethically good about her work instead of the sick glorified, self-serving victories over smashing feeble competition.</p><p>So now there was only one more thing left to do.</p><p> </p><p>One early March morning Lena hops in a cab, stopping once to purchase a bouquet of flowers on her way to the Westside. The car stops in a little neighborhood on a sunny day and Lena has a little pep in her step down the block. She climbs up a small staircase up to a building and pushes on the intercom button. It buzzes.</p><p>“<em> Eh, Hello? </em>”</p><p>“Kara Danvers?” </p><p>“<em> Who is it? </em>”</p><p>“It’s Lena Luthor.”</p><p>There is a pause, before Kara replies, “<em> What are you doing here? </em>”</p><p>"Can I come up, please?"</p><p>“Uh, no I don’t- I don’t think that’s a good idea. You see I have a terrible… A terrible cold.”</p><p><em> ACHOO! </em> Lena rears back from the speaker, hearing sniffles and scuffling static.</p><p>“<em> Did you hear that? </em>”</p><p>“Yeah, I heard that.”</p><p>“<em> I’m sniffling and I’m not really awake… </em>” </p><p>Luckily, one of Kara’s neighbors opens the door to go inside. Lena slips inside while Kara is still talking on the intercom. “<em> I'm taking echinacea and vitamin C and sleeping practically 24 hours a day. I have a temperature. And I think I'm contagious. So I would... I would really appreciate it if you'd just go away! </em>”</p><p>Lena knocks on Kara’s door and hears a surprised shriek behind it.</p><p>“Kara?” Lena calls, waiting for her to open the door. She hears a quiet ‘shoot’.</p><p>“Hang on a minute!” Kara calls. There’s some shuffling around for a few minutes until Kara opens the door with her chin raised up. She’s in a fluffy pink robe and looks absolutely awful. Her eyes are puffy under her glasses and her nose is red from constant klenexing, but Lena finds her beautiful regardless. “Hello.”</p><p>“Hello,” Lena answers with a smile.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Kara asks, looking over her guest suspiciously.</p><p>“I heard you were sick and I was worried,” Lena explains, she hears conversation coming from Kara’s apartment. She steps a foot inside and her head tilts. “Is… someone here?”</p><p>“No?” Kara blinks hazily, turning to listen. “Oh, no. That’s the home network.”</p><p>Lena lets herself in, striding past Kara, who was too shocked to say anything about the intrusion. “You buy any of those porcelain dolls?” She looks around the quaint little studio. It’s charming. Pastel green walls and bookshelves are everywhere. </p><p>“I was thinking about it…” Kara shuts the door. She’s suddenly flustered at Lena’s presence in her apartment. “Hey, you put me out of business!”</p><p>“Yes, I did.” Lena keeps looking around, squinting at family photos and knick knacks on the hearth’s mantle.</p><p>“Did you come to gloat?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“To offer me a job then,” Kara guesses. She folds her arms with a huff and a sniffle. “I would never… I have plenty of offers. I got offered a job by-”</p><p>“By my ex,” Lena finishes. “We broke up.”</p><p>“Huh. Well, that’s too bad. You were perfect for each other. Oh!” Kara slaps a hand on her own mouth with a wince. She sighs. “I don’t mean to say things like that. No matter what you’ve done to me, there is no excuse for me to say things like that. But every time I see you-”</p><p>“Things like that just fly out of your mouth,” Lena turns to her and she takes a deep breath. The purple, paper cone cradled in her hands crinkle as she offered it. “I brought you flowers.”</p><p>“Oh!” Kara winces and stomps her foot at the offering, clearly conflicted. “Thank you,” she says, trying her best to sound polite. She reopens the front door and waits impatiently for Lena to get the hint.</p><p>“I’m going to put these in water,” Lena announces turning towards the kitchen. “You’re sick, you should sit down. I need a vase, do you have one?”</p><p>The door swings closed and Kara plops on the couch with a groan. “Above the fridge.”</p><p>Lena finds a clear vase and goes to work, unwrapping the flowers from the paper and trimming the stems under cold running water. “Winn says hi, by the way.”</p><p>“Ah, Winn…” Kara sniffles pathetically. “How is Winn?”</p><p>“He’s good,” Lena replies. “He’s really revolutionizing the place. You can’t work in his department without having a P.H.D. in Comic Books, manga included.” Lena brings the vase of flowers and sets them on the coffee table. Kara looks at them and sighs, fingering a few white blossoms.</p><p>“Plumerias,” she breathes with a tired smile. “I love plumerias.”</p><p>Lena sinks down on the couch next to her, resting an arm over the edge. “You told me.”</p><p>“Don’t you think plumerias are the most loveliest flower?”</p><p>“I do,” Lena smiles and nods, observing Kara closely. Her unbrushed hair is pulled back into a messy bun. It takes all of Lena’s will power not to reach over and swipe the strays to tuck behind Kara’s ear.</p><p>“When did you break up?” Kara asks, to Lena’s surprise.</p><p>“A few weeks ago.”</p><p>“Everyone is breaking up,” she observes. “You. Me. This other person I know broke up with someone in an elevator, or after it, or outside it… it got stuck.” Kara lulls her head in Lena’s direction. “When I saw you at the coffee place, I was waiting for her. And I was-”</p><p>“Charming.”</p><p>“I was <em> not </em> charming.”</p><p>“Do you want some tea?” Lena asks her, rising up again, overcome with the need to keep moving through her nervousness.</p><p>“Please.” Kara turns on the couch, waiting her bustle around the kitchen as if it was her own space. “I was… I was horrible. I was upset.”</p><p>“Honey?”</p><p>“What? Oh!” Kara’s face pinkens, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “Please.”</p><p>Kara falls quiet in a moment of thought. It takes Lena no time at all to fix up a cup of herbal liquid, the electric kettle was already on, hot and full. “I was the horrible one,” Lena points out.</p><p>“Yes, but…” Kara sighs. “I have no excuse.”</p><p>“That’s interesting. Whereas I’m a horrible person therefore I have no choice but to be horrible. That’s what you’re saying. And that’s alright. I did put you out of business so you are entitled to hate me.”</p><p>“I don’t hate you.” Lena places the mug of tea on the nightstand by the bed. She pulls the sheer curtain back then approaches Kara, pulling her up by the arm.</p><p>“But you won’t forgive me,” Lena leads her to the bed with a hand on her back. Kara groans childishly, but goes without argument. “Just like Elizabeth.”</p><p>“Who?” Kara crawls under the covers with a sniff and sits back against the pile of pillows against the headboard.</p><p>“Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice.” Lena smiles and tucks the covers snuggly around Kara’s legs. “She was too proud. Or was it too prejudice and Mr. Darcy was too proud? I can’t remember.” Kara looks at her blankly and Lena feels off put. She clears her throat and says, “It… wasn’t personal, you know.”</p><p>“I’m so sick of that,” Kara flops her arms and Lena sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sick of hearing that. All that means is that it wasn’t personal to you. But it was personal to me. It’s personal to a lot of people. What’s so wrong with being personal anyways?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.” Kara groans and closes her eyes for a few seconds. “My head is getting fuzzy.” She looks at Lena for a pause and asks, “Why are you here again? I forget.”</p><p>“I…” Lena stares at her twisting fingers in her lap. Her face is warm. “I wanted to be your friend.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“I knew it wasn’t possible, but… I tend to want the impossible sometimes,” she explains and shifts on the mattress a little closer. “So whatever happened to the girl you were supposed to meet at the cafe?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“But you're crazy about her.”</p><p>“Yes…” Kara leans her head back, sniffling. “I am.”</p><p>“Why don’t you two just run off together? What are you waiting for?”</p><p>Kara groans and hides her face in her hands. “I don’t actually know her.”</p><p>“Really?” Lena tilts her head, looking perplexed and interested. She smirks. “Oh, let me guess… You only know her through the internet.”</p><p>Kara’s hands drop from her face. She looks shocked and she gasps. “Yes!”</p><p>“You’ve got mail. That’s quite a powerful thing.”</p><p>“Yes…” Kara whispers with a dramatic nod.</p><p>“Well, I’m happy for her.” Lena hands Kara her tea. “But, if I may make a suggestion?”</p><p>“What?” Kara’s eyes look to be stuck open wide, searching for any advice that she could give her. It gives Lena hope. </p><p>“I think you should meet her. No, wait. I take that back.” Lena swats the air as if it was a silly idea. “Why would you meet someone you’re crazy about?”</p><p>The joke isn’t taken well. Kara’s brow furrows and her shoulders stiffen. “I hardly think I need to take advice from a person who-” She gasps when Lena silences her with a press of her fingers on Kara’s lips. They are extremely close now, almost intimately. Their eyes connect in a silent pause.</p><p>“I can see that I bring the worst out of you,” Lena whispers, drooping her eyes to the soft bow of Kara’s mouth under her finger tips. “Let me help you to not say something you’ll torture yourself for years to come.” She removes her fingers and Kara is still frozen in place, speechless.</p><p>“I hope you feel better soon.” Lena gets up. She plucks a flower from the vase. “It’ll be a shame to miss National City in the spring.” </p><p>A shy, inevitable smile breaks on Kara’s face as the plumeria twirls in front of her. She takes it from Lena and brushes it under her nose. “Thank you for the flowers.”</p><p>“Take care.” Lena smiles, backing her way out the door with a little wave.</p><p>“Bye…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Supergirl:</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ve been thinking about this  and I think we should meet. </em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>NC152:</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> We should meet. And we will. But I’m currently in the middle of a project that needs tweaking. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“Tweaking?” Lena laughs at that. “A project that needed ‘tweaking’.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what she said.” Kara is blushing. She takes a sip of her milkshake from her seat across the table. It just so happened that Lena kept bumping into Kara at the coffee shop, the supermarket, etc. What started off as polite small talk over the coincidences turned into spontaneous meetups. Lunch, brunch, coffee… sometimes even dinner. Kara could hardly believe it. Lena Luthor was turning out to be a delightful friend. Hell must have frozen over.</p><p>“She’s probably married.”</p><p>“What?!” Kara’s eyes bulge at the thought. “No.”</p><p>“Sounds like it. Three kids at least.” Lena’s laugh is painfully warm, albeit teasing. Kara loves it. She loves it when Lena smiles and laughs and does that flippy thing with her hair. It’s almost surreal that this woman, the terribly beautiful and surprisingly pleasant woman, had ruined her life.</p><p>“That’s a terrible thing to say. It’s not possible.”</p><p>“She breaks up with whoever she was with and still drags her feet about meeting you?” Lena arches a brow with a sly smirk. “She’s married. She’s in the middle of a custody battle. Good thing you like kids huh?”</p><p>“She’s not married!” Kara insists.</p><p>“Have you asked her?” Lena pries further, enjoying the way Kara gets so flustered over the topic. “Have you said, ‘Are you married?’”</p><p>“No…”  </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>SuperGirl:</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> I know this is a little late for me to be asking but… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Are you married? </em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>NC152:</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> Am I married? What kind of question is that? How can you ask me that? Don’t you know me at all? Oh, I get it. Your friends are telling you that the only reason we haven’t met is that I’m married. Am I right? </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>“She didn’t answer the question,” Lena points out.</p><p>Kara and Lena are munching on some nachos while strolling down the street, heading to a local farmers market in the park.</p><p>“She did too,” Kara argued back, giving Lena a suspicious side-eye. “She nailed me. She knew exactly what I was up to. Which is so like her.”</p><p>“But she still didn’t answer the question, did she?”</p><p>“No…” The clarity of that made Kara a little worried.</p><p>“Maybe she’s fat.”</p><p>Kara gawks, blinks and stutters, “I-I don’t care about that.”</p><p>“You don’t care that she might be one of those people who's so fat that they need a crane to get her out of the house?”</p><p>“That’s very unlikely.”</p><p>“What about she’s waiting for parole. They have email in jail now.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous…”</p><p>“What’s her handle?” When Kara doesn’t answer right away, Lena presses. “I’m not going to write to her or anything.” </p><p>“NC152.”</p><p>“N-C-1-5-2…” Lena hums with thought. “She’s a hundred and fifty-two years old.” Kara laughs, shaking her head. Then Lena also suggests that NC152 has one hundred and fifty-two moles on her face, or hundred and fifty-two people think she looks like Celien Dion.”</p><p>“Oh, gosh,” Kara hides her face with a groan. “Why did I even tell you?”</p><p>“A hundred and fifty-two stitches from her nose job,” Lena says next, looking at the variety of fruits at a market stand with interest. </p><p>“The number of souvenir shot glasses she has collected on her travels.” Kara pauses, then adds, “Oh! Her address! Wait, no. She wouldn’t do something that prosaic.”</p><p>Lena stops in her tracks, seemingly wounded for a moment. When Kara looks back, she shakes herself off and skips to catch up again. “Anyways, the only thing I really care about besides the married thing and the jail thing, is the boat thing.”</p><p>“The boat thing?” Lena echoes with confusion.</p><p>“I can never be with someone who owns a boat.”</p><p>“I have a boat.”</p><p>The proclamation stuns Kara. “Oh.”</p><p>“So that clinches it,” Lena sighs defeatedly. “We’ll never be together.” Kara bites on her bottom lip with a breathless laugh. “I can never be with someone who likes Joni Mitchell.”</p><p>Kara swings her head, mouth agape.</p><p>“It’s cloud illusions I recall, I really don’t know clouds at all… What does that mean?”</p><p>Kara is speechless. She’s speechless because she likes Joni Mitchell and no one but NC152 knows it. Lena looks like she was expecting to confess that she likes the Canadian singer-songwriter, as if she suspected it as much. It’s off putting. And it’s suspicious.</p><p>Kara doesn't say anything. Instead, she intently picks through a pile of apples to find the best ones.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s your book coming along?” They’re now going uptown, leaving the bustle of the market behind. They sit on a bench across the street from a hotdog place, eating crunchy pretzels from a bag Lena is holding.</p><p>“There’s a children’s book editor I know, from the store, and she’s excited to read it. When I finish it.” Kara shakes her head in disbelief. “Who would ever thought that I’d write? I mean, if I didn’t have all this free time, I never would have discovered-” Kara stops, realizes what she’s saying. “The truth is,<em> she </em> was the one who made me start thinking about writing.”</p><p>“Miss 152 felony indictments?”</p><p>Kara laughs and replies, “Miss 152 insights into my soul.”</p><p>When she looks, she catches Lena staring at her. “Yes, well.” The brunette clears her throat and goes to dig for more pretzels. “Can’t compete with that.”</p><p>Kara is silent. She keeps getting hints that Lena likes her in more ways that are friendly. Kara would be lying to herself if she would deny her own feelings. She had Lena all wrong in the beginning. She was caring, funny and even quite sweet in subtle ways. </p><p>“I keep bumping into you.” Kara smiles, taking a bite of a perfectly crisp apple. “Hope your mangoes are ripe.”</p><p>“I think they are. You wanna bump into me on Saturday? Around lunch time? Over there?”</p><p>Yes, Kara does. And she’s not ashamed about it either. Lena Luthor isn’t as cruel or shallow as she thought. In fact, Kara really likes her.</p><p>A lot.</p><p>
  <b> <em>NC152:</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> How about meeting on Saturday? Four o’clock. There is a place in Brookside Park at 95st street where the paths curve and there is a garden. Hope and I will be waiting. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Here I am, Baby. Signed, sealed, delivered. ;)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Kara answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. In Brookside.” A big bite of her hotdog causes mustard oozes down Kara’s chin. And before she could wipe it up, Lena does it for her. It happens in a flash as if it was the most casual thing. A swipe of a finger is drawn from Kara’s chin to Lena’s tongue and smacking lips. It’s startling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would mean she’s a Westsider.” Lena licks off the remaining yellow condiment on her fingers. She takes a bite of her own weiner with a moan and Kara gulps at the sound. Then her brain recalls the memories in Clark’s bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe… Maybe I’ve seen her and don’t even know it,” Kara stutters, blushing and intently gluing her eyes to Lena’s every move. How can such a creature make eating hotdogs look so amazing?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara nearly chokes on her next bite when Lena replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have seen her every day and not know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finish their lunch and Lena walks Kara back to her apartment. She’s off work, so she has the time. “She could be anyone,” Lena says then points to a lady who’s walking briskly with a huge bouquet of roses. “That could be her. And those flowers could be for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She could be the muffin lady,” Lena suggests next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She bakes muffins on Amsterdam Avenue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara barks a laugh and elbows her side. “Will you cut it out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll never have to buy muffins again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara chuckles with a shake of her head. She sighs and says, “The timing here is everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena hums in agreement. They’re almost to Kara’s building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s waited until you're primed. Until you are absolutely convinced that there is no other woman you can possibly love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara nods, taking an anxious breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know…” Lena stops and Kara turns to her. Lena’s soft green-blue eyes are filled with something she can’t decipher. “Sometimes I wonder…” Kara’s breath hitches as Lena steps close in, really close. “If I hadn’t been Luthor Books and you weren’t the Shop Around the Corner and we just happened to meet...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara gets what she’s saying. It’s something she’s thought about a lot within the past few weeks. She swallows the lump in her throat. “Lena-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have asked for your number.” Lena confesses. Her high cheekbones become flushed and her glaze fills with a soft sadness. Kara’s heart skips a few beats. “I wouldn’t have been able to wait for 24 hours before calling and asking you to have a cup of coffee with me. Or drinks, dinner… a movie. For as long as we both shall live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, God.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kara’s eyes dip to Lena’s mouth. She wants to kiss her. Kara wants to kiss Lena so bad and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you and I would never have been at war,” Lena continues, inching a bit closer until they are practically breast to breast and breathing each other’s air. “The only thing we would fight about is what movie to rent on Saturday night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who fights about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some people,” Lena replies quietly. “Not us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would never,” Kara says with a sigh. Lena fingers a blonde strand out of Kara’s face, looking at her with wanting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara’s heart clenches painfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” she says, stepping back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know but before you do,” Lena pulls Kara back by her arm, searching her eyes desperately. “Let me ask you something.” Kara’s chest hitches. “How can you forgive this girl for standing you up and not forgive me for…” Lena’s eyes fall down with guilt. “For putting you out of business?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara opens her mouth, but can’t say anything when Lena’s looking at her with a painful gaze. “Oh, Kara, I wish you would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara’s voice cracks. “I-I really have to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena takes a breath, releases her, and steps back. “Right, don’t want to be late.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara’s in agony when Lena turns around and walks away. She wanted to stop her. Kara wanted to call out to her and tell her that she was forgiven. About how Kara wouldn’t ever have a chance to decide what she wanted to do with her life if it wasn’t for Lena. If it wasn’t for Lena, Kara would still be stuck in her store, never exploring anything else beyond that corner of the street. Lena freed her. And even though she thought her world ended horribly by a ruthless hand, it really opened other doors instead, other doors Kara could choose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to tell Lena all of this but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>NC152 would be waiting for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara needed to know who was on the other side of the cyber wall, connecting with her on such a deep and profound level. If things don’t work out with her, Kara knows exactly who she will run to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>3:30PM.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara leaves her apartment dressed in a soft white dress, sleeveless with a babydoll waist. Her hair is partly up, letting half cascade down over her shoulders. Her heart races on the way to the garden. It’s a beautiful afternoon with blossoms blooming everywhere and birdsongs fluttering from the canopies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the way there, she couldn’t help to think about Lena and what she said. Of what could have been if things were different, if they were different people and if Kara’s heart wasn’t already stuck on someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Kara dares to wonder if Lena could be NC152.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s impossible, she tells herself. Out of all the queer women in National City, Kara just couldn’t even bare to hope that Lena Luthor was there in a chatroom of all places. Then by some weird fate had brought them at war. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Things like that don’t happen</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kara thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That only happens in books.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she knew it, Kara was in the garden. So many people were strolling, jogging, and riding bikes all around. A check to her cell tells her that it's four o’clock. It’s time. Heat crawls up Kara’s neck while she shifts nervously in place. Whoever NC152 is, she knows she’ll love her no matter who it was. Even if it was-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hears a noise -a dog barking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hope!” a voice calls. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice. “Hope! Come on!” A gold retriever turns with the sidewalk into view, running at full speed with her tongue flopping out of her mouth. Lena Luthor rounds the corner dressed in a dark, green dress with a dog leash in her hand. She pauses when she sees Kara and gives her a shy, guilty looking wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>is</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> her…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kara couldn’t believe it. It was Lena. All this time. Now Kara understands everything. After their first meeting at the cafe, Kara now remembered how cruel she treated Lena. How much she fought her and even slandered her name on the news. For everything that Kara had done, everything that Lena had felt guilty about. She still came back for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena came back because she fell for Supergirl the same way Kara fell for NC152. Lena stayed and fought to be with her no matter what hell they dragged on with each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears pour down Kara’s face. Lena walks up to her with a furrowed brow, and Kara hides her sobbing in her hands only to have Lena pull them down to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t cry, Supergirl.” Lena cups Kara’s weeping face, thumbing the tears off her cheeks. “Don’t cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted it to be you,” she says, trembling with emotion and smiling through her crying. “I wanted it to be you so </span>
  <em>
    <span>badly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lena pulls Kara in and kisses her. It’s so gentle, but desperate, and it takes Kara’s breath away. Her knees buckle to the soft probing of Lena’s tongue and when she let’s her in, Kara is overwhelmed. She’s so overwhelmed with joy and the sensation of Lena’s love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the kiss deepens, Kara's mind races over everything. How Lena did show up at the cafe the first agreement, how she mentioned Kara’s own thoughts about Pride and Prejudice, the breakup with Andrea that she now knows was in an elevator, how Lena knew that Kara liked Joni Mitchell was trying to get her to confess to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More importantly, Lena stubbornly braved rejection and ridicule in order to open Kara’s heart. So they could have a chance to be together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her hands on Lena’s cheeks, Kara could feel that Lena was crying too. She presses herself more firmly against the love of her life, moaning into the kiss like it was the last thing she’ll ever want to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, someone was jealous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope barks in protest and keeps pawing at them. Kara giggles against red-ruined lipstick and Lena groans into her mouth, aimlessly pushing the dog off. They keep kissing until Hope manages to paw up and lick at their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh! Hope!” Lena pushes the dog down. “Come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kara laughs and takes a knee, letting the dog put her paws on her shoulders and get ear scritches. She barks happily and licks Kara’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s so not fair,” Lena grunts. “I should have left her at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense.” Kara stands up again with a big, sunny smile and rosy cheeks. “I love her already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, darling.” Lena takes Kara’s hand with an endearing pull of her mouth. “We have some catching up to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They do indeed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short but the best scene, in my opinion. The next chapter will be a flash forward with smexy times and how Kara and Lena's friends and family react to their relationship. ;) see you then.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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